A Walk in the Woods
by Kristen999
Summary: Conclusion Up A murder in the woods is a simple case, right? It can prove to be a much more dangerous outing then anyone ever expected. NickWarrickGreg Friendship
1. Chapter 1

* * *

Title: A Walk In the Woods

Author: Kristen999

Category: Drama / Angst /Action

Spoilers: None. Set during Season 4

Disclaimer: All rights belong to CBS and all thier fine writers. Please don't sue. This is just for fun.

Summary: A murder in the woods is a simple case, right? It can prove to be a much more dangerous outing then anyone ever expected. Nick-Warrick-Greg Friendship

Notes: All right, I've been an active reader forever. Its been several years since I wrote anything so I hope this dip in the waters is as much fun for you as its been for me. Keep in mind my stories are rooted in my world, but thats what fanfiction is for. Comments are welcomed. This story is complete and I'll post on a regular bases. I want to thank my wonderful beta Kristen for all of her insight and help!

This chapter was loaded and then reloaded since my fisrt posting attempt erased all my line breaks for some reason. Sorry for any confusion.

* * *

Nick Stokes glanced at the clock display in the dash and sighed. It was just before the end of a double shift, and the drive to the crime scene was taking almost two hours to reach. He adjusted his orange tinted sunglasses as the afternoon sun blazed its rays directly in his line of vision. He also debated about adjusting the temperature in the car, as it was fairly chilly outside. Nick was wearing his long black sleeved shirt, his Forensics vest, and his black colored chinos. He felt a bit stuffy in the car.

He glanced over at Warrick, who was studying a map. His partner had on a dark brown button down shirt and dark tan pants.

"Looks like we're almost there," Warrick replied to his friend's un-vocalized question. "Turn down this path," he instructed, pointing at a dirt trail that the Denali almost passed.

Nick hit the brakes to make the hair-pin turn. "Didn't know that this was a hot spot for hikers."

"Someone thought it was. The vic's supposed to be about four miles into these woods. The trees are so dense that we can't go in by a four by four or car." Warrick had a pretty good idea why Grissom had assigned him and Nick the case from the get go.

Nick chuckled as he slowed the Denali down some more. The so-called road they entered was getting bumpier, and he watched as Warrick grabbed a hold of the door handle to keep from being tossed around too much. "Means the coroner will have to chopper the body back to the lab. But us, my friend," Nick glanced at Warrick with a grin.

"We get to ankle express it there," Warrick replied with a grimace.

Nick's smile widened. "Hope you're wearing hiking boots."

The other CSI shot him a stern look as they drove into a small clearing. There were two cars parked along the edge of the woods, including the Sheriff's. Both of them climbed out carrying their kits, each man stretching stiff muscles from the trip. Warrick opened one of the back doors to grab his vest and slipped it on before greeting local law enforcement.

The Sheriff wandered over to the approaching criminalists from the small group of assembled people waiting at the edge of the clearing, giving them an appraising look. The law officer appeared to be in his mid forties, with a Tom Selleck-type mustache and salt and peppered hair. "I'm Sheriff Miles," he said offering his hand.

Warrick and Nick each took turns shaking it. "I'm Warrick Brown, this is Nick Stokes. We're from the crime lab," he said getting to business.

Miles laughed. "Yeah, I can see that from the writing on both of your vests."

Nick grinned, looking around at his surroundings. "So what do we have, Sheriff?"

"Straight to the point, that's good. We had a missing person's report filed two days ago on a Chris Robinson, age 29. He hiked into the woods on Tuesday afternoon. When he didn't return home, his friends came to my office."

"What day was that?" Nick asked, scribbling a few notes in his book.

"Wednesday. We don't get too many missing hikers around here, being government land and all. I searched for him late Wednesday afternoon and found him on my follow up search Thursday morning."

The Sheriff had a slightly smaller stature then both the CSI's, but looked to be in excellent shape for all the patrolling he would have to endure in his large area, Warrick mused as he studied him. "You were the only one in the search attempt?" he asked.

"Yeah, a person ain't officially considered missing till 48 hours later, and it's not like I have a huge department to help me out. Only one deputy, so I decided to check things out myself," Miles responded. He thoughtfully stroked his graying mustache. "Found him about four miles in, bullet in the chest, slumped against a tree."

"Any hunting go on around here?" Nick asked.

Miles shook his head, "Nope, government land, like I said. We don't get too much illegal poaching or what not. There are state game lands specifically set up for that."

Nick scanned the trees and back over to the awaiting group of friends. "This spot doesn't have any good trails, so what was this guy doing going for a day walk?"

The Sheriff's eyes gleamed. "Why don't you ask his buddies that question, Mr. Stokes."

Miles seemed generally amused by something. Nick shot Warrick a perplexed glance, and his friend shrugged, not knowing the underlying meaning. Both of them walked over to victim's friends.

A guy with a pony tail and goatee crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You guys here to find out what happened to Chris?"

"We're here to try, " Nick answered sincerely. "What's your name?"

"Steve Johnson."

"Want to tell us why Chris was hiking alone here?"

"He was letter-boxing," a petite redheaded woman answered.

"He was what?" Nicked replied, confused.

"It's a type of adventure hunting," the woman explained. "You see, we belong to a group of local letter-boxers; in fact, we're some of the highest rated hunters in the state," she beamed proudly.

"Uh, what kind of adventure hunting are we talking about?" Warrick chimed in.

"You go on any of the national letter boxing sites on the Internet, and find a list of weekly hunts in the area. It gives you a set of GPS coordinates and you follow them."

Nick cleared his throat. "So, he followed the GPS instructions for what reason?"

"You try to find a hidden box and you make a rubbing of the seal that's inside it," Steve elaborated.

"Chris hiked four miles into the woods to make a rubbing?" Warrick frowned.

"Yeah, our group has one of the largest book collections; over sixty copies of different seals," the woman replied.

Nick looked down at his pad of paper, "What's your name, Miss...... "

"Logins. Cindy Logins. When Chris didn't come back we knew something was wrong. He's an experienced hiker and it just wasn't like him to stay out that long."

Warrick looked at them both, "Did he usually hike alone?"

"Sometimes. Steve took ahold of Cindy's hand. " Cindy and I are dating now, so we had this romantic dinner planned and Chris went by himself." At the mention of his friend's name, the younger man grew quiet.

Nick folded up his book. "The Sheriff has all of your information, but we might have to contact you if we have any more questions."

Both criminalists went back to where Sheriff Miles was standing. "The things these kids do nowadays with the Internet," the older man said, shaking his head.

Warrick pulled out his shades and slipped them on. Both he and Nick grabbed their field kits and awaited their escort's instructions.

"All right Mr. Stokes, Mr. Brown. You ready to hit the trail?"

Nick could tell from his friend's body language that he wasn't thrilled with the prospect of walking several miles, and he smirked. "Come on now, 'Rick, a little jaunt through the woods is good for you."

"You know I'm as much into sports and working out as you, man. Lugging our kits for a few miles ain't no stroll in a park," Warrick complained.

Nick's looked chagrined as it dawned on him how much of a pain in the ass their trek was going to be. "Yeah... I see your point."

Both men followed the Sheriff, Nick glanced back. "What about Robinson's friends?"

"Deputy Reynolds is coming by to escort them home," Miles replied brushing a tree branch out of his way. "Keep close to me now, guys, it easy to get lost in here. No real worn out areas, plenty of uneven ground, and thorn bushes all the way there."

"Real walk in the park," Warrick grumbled as they started their way.

* * *

The woods were very dense in places, limbs and branches scratching at the trio as the made their way though. The temperature had dropped considerably without the sun beaming down on them. Nick still managed to work up a sweat, hauling through the maze of trees. He was glad for his cap, as the brim shielded his face from the little bits of dust and debris that was being kicked up as they walked.

Every once in a while a tree root would cause one of them to stumble, but despite the rugged terrain, Nick was finding the exertion fun. He would steal a glance at Warrick every once in a while; despite his complaints, Nick thought the other CSI was enjoying the challenge as well. Both of them worked out regularly on their own time. Every once in a while they would play each other in racquetball or a game of hoops outside the lab. Their friendly rivalry had played itself out at work during cases and progressed into their spare time as well. Each of them was fueled by a spirit of competition.

"I guess we know why whoever planted this letterbox, or whatever, used a GPS finder. Don't know how anyone could ever find their way through all of this," Warrick commented, adjusting his pack.

"Well, this seems like a perfect combination for adventure-minded nature enthusiasts," Nick laughed.

"Whatever, kids have no reason for being here," Miles huffed.

The path the three had chosen seemed to level off just a bit. Nick could see his way around a bit easier. "All of this is government land?"

"Yeah, there's talk of making it into some form of state park, but you know how longs things like that take." The Sheriff came to a stop as they approached a small clearing. "The body is a few feet past here. Seemed like a good point to really search around when I was looking for our missing person."

"Anyone else come through here other than yourself?" Warrick asked as he crouched near the ground, hoping to find any subtle clues of what transpired near the body.

"Ned Jenkins lives only a mile from here. Kind of a squatter, if you know what I mean. I know this area fairly well, since I have to hike through here to go talk to him every once in a while."

"He lives in the middle of nowhere? What, is he some kind of hermit?" Nick asked as his eyes darted to the forest floor, seeking foot prints or any other signs of a disturbance.

"Kind of. His family owned some of the land around here. He's been in a dispute with the government over property rights for the past ten years now. He tends to stay to himself... not much of a trouble maker. He likes the quiet of the woods," Miles said thoughtfully as he watched the CSI's walk a circle around the clearing.

"The body is beyond that tree over there." The Sheriff pointed to his left, close to where Warrick was inspecting.

Warrick stayed low, eyeing the underbrush. There was soil and leaves all over the ground, making it fairly hard to detect any evidence of a second person. The lanky man also noted that looking for trace evidence was going to almost literally be a shot in the dark. He shook his head in slight frustration; it would be near impossible to tell what happened.

Nick kept to the outer edge of the clearing and headed towards the body. He stepped past a fairly large tree to see the victim slumped against the other side. Nick noted the wound in the victim's chest before standing up to face the direction that the victim would've been standing. Thousands of trees stared back at him. He snapped a few pictures of the body as he pondered where the shooter might have been positioned.

Warrick came to Nick's side. He crouched down and carefully pulled the victim towards him. The CSI flattened his gloved hand and patted down the man's back, searching for an exit wound. "Well, no sign of a though and through. Means we can retrieve the bullet after the autopsy."

Nick stared at Chris Robinson's clothes. Dried dark blood stained the man's flannel shirt and khaki pants. There was a thicker layer of blood that appeared to have gathered along the creases of the man's lap. One thing that bothered him was the absence of a larger pool of blood on the forest ground. Blood had dripped down from the entrance wound, but for a man that had bled out, the ground should have been throughly soaked.

Nick began to process the body, taking photos and lifting a few samples from the victim's jacket. He'd have to wait for the coroner to do a liver temperature to find the exact time of death. He also tweezed a hair fiber along Robinson's shirt collar. "You know, I would have expected more blood if this is where he was shot."

Warrick had been canvassing a small perimeter around the body, placing marker tags around anything that could be used as evidence of the attack. "Yeah, I noticed that too. I'm not finding any traces of another person around here."

Warrick saw the GPS unit laying a few inches away from the victim's body covered up by leaves and debris. He grabbed the device and bagged it. "Maybe we can find something more from this."

"Perhaps we can get the data to tell us where he had traveled around here," Nick stated. He got up and examined the hole in Robinson's chest a bit closer.

Warrick cocked his head. "What ya thinkin?"

"Well, I'm guessing by the size of the entry wound, and the way the body is located, that our vic wasn't shot from close range."

The Sheriff, who had tried to stay out of the way of the evidence collection, wandered over. "You think it was an accident?"

Nick placed his hand on his hip and shook his head. "Nope, doesn't feel right."

Warrick stepped closer, holding his camera to the side. "If there's no hunting around here and he shot from more than 15 feet, then someone was targeting him."

Nick nodded. "So far the evidence isn't telling us much. We need to talk to the last people to have seen him alive and those were his friends. We determine the why........"

"Which might lead us to the who," Warrick finished for him. The criminalist eyed his surroundings. "You did say that a Ned Jenkins lived nearby here. Might want to talk to him before heading out. See if he heard or saw anything."

Nick was going to add a few comments when his cell phone went off.

"Stokes," he answered as he walked off, covering his other ear with his hand. "I'm sorry, David, I can barely hear you."

Miles took off his cap and wearily rubbed his fingers though his hair. "Talking to Ned is kind of tough. He doesn't like strangers all that much."

"Why's that?"

The Sheriff blew out a breath, "Real loner. Ex-military. Doesn't trust law enforcement very much. Kind of paranoid if you know what I mean?"

Warrick narrowed his eyes. "Is he ever prone to violent behavior? Think he might be a little unhappy about some stranger combing though his property or something?"

Miles adjusted his belt and the weight of his revolver around his waist. His face reddened just a bit. "The guy's just a hermit. Not real sociable is all. Just cause he fits one of those little scientific profiles of a yahoo, don't mean he's nuts or something."

Nick closed his cell phone looking a bit frustrated, but he stood by quietly listening to the conversation going on.

Warrick held his hands up in a calming gesture. "Look, Sheriff. I'm not accusing anybody of anything just yet. We have no witnesses, and Jenkins might be able to provide us with some new information."

Miles just stared at both CSI's.

"Now you said he was ex-military. Do you know if he owns a gun?" Warrick asked in a neutral tone.

The Sheriff bit his lip. "Of course he does. Handguns and several rifles. Don't mean nothing. Got permits for all of them." With that he brushed past both investigators.

Nick looked at his friend. "Seems kind of touchy."

Warrick took a deep breath. "Yeah, Ned Jenkins just jumped to the top of the list of suspects."

"Yeah. On another pleasant note, reception out here is really bad. Had to call David back two times and still could barely hear him. He'll be by in the next couple of hours to retrieve the body by chopper since he's got another pick up before us" Nick explained.

"You guys coming?" The Sheriff yelled from further off.

The CSI's looked at each other, gathered their kits, and began to follow their escort.

* * *

It only took half an hour to reach Ned's house; a very short amount of time considering where victim had been found. Nick considered how easily it would be for a person who knew the area to target someone, shoot them, and just return home. Of course the word 'motive' kept popping into his mind, as Nick didn't really have anything to go on right as yet. There were no probable findings at the scene. They had discovered very little blood evidence: no shell casings, not even a foot print. But something told him that the person they were looking for was someone who lived near or was quite familiar with the area.

"Now don't go wandering around Ned's property; it can be a little.... dangerous," The Sheriff warned.

Warrick and Nick stopped in their tracks. "What do you mean by that?" Warrick said, glancing around warily.

The lawman sighed heavily again, and repeated the nervous gesture of taking off his hat and bending the rim. "Look, he's a bit of an oddball, a stickler for protecting his property after all the confrontations with the government. He sometimes has little trip wires around the perimeter... mainly alarm signals and such."

Nick frantically searched where he was walking, keeping an eye for anything his foot might trigger. "Just sometimes?" he replied, his voice concerned.

"Well, I've found a snare every once in a while, but guys, it's really nothing."

Nick and Warrick shared uneasy glances and were very vigilant about following Miles' trek towards the house. "Last time I checked, traps were illegal," Warrick mumbled to himself.

Before they reached the makeshift porch, the door opened, and a man in faded black pants and an olive shirt walked out to "greet" them. Ned Jenkins had curly black hair that was graying around the edges, and a neatly trimmed matching beard and mustache. His eyes were a dull blue. It was hard to tell but he seemed to be in his early fifties. One thing was for certain, he didn't look very pleased to see people approaching his home.

Nick placed his kit carefully down by the steps. He noted the pistol holstered to Ned's left side. Instinctually Nick checked his service weapon with his hands, and he sensed Warrick doing the same thing. Both CSI's tensed up slightly.

Sheriff Miles made the introductions. Ned Jenkins didn't move from where he was standing. He didn't show any emotion concerning the death of the young hiker.

"Mr. Jenkins, we were wondering if we could ask you a few questions," Nick spoke.

"I don't know anything about a missing person, or what happened to him. I don't see how I can help you..... gentlemen," Jenkins responded in a clipped voice.

"Maybe you might have heard or seen something that seemed ordinary, but might have some relevance to our investigation," Warrick stated, trying a different tactic.

"No. Nothing."

Warrick noted that Jenkins still hadn't moved from his position. He just gave his curt answers from a distance. "Where were you on Wednesday afternoon?"

"I was at home reading." Jenkins walked down the porch steps and leaned on the railing as if studying all three of them.

"If you were at home, did you hear any gunshots?" When silence greeted him, Nick posed another question. "I mean you are less than a mile away. With all the relative calm around is it possible you heard gunfire?"

"I keep to myself and I mind my own business. No one bothers me, and I don't pay attention to what everyone else does with their time." Jenkins stared at them in irritation.

"What do you usually do when someone comes around that 'does' bother you?" Warrick asked, not hiding the accusation from his voice.

"People know better than to do that. I've answered all your questions," Jenkins said dismissively. He turned his back to the trio and started back up the steps.

"May we have a look around, sir?" Nick asked, trying to get permission to search for any evidence that their victim might have stumbled upon the house by mistake.

"No, you may not. In fact, I want the three of you to leave now." Jenkins swung open his door and closed it behind him.

The Sheriff shook his head. "Knew this wouldn't be easy... however, we are on his land. We do have to go."

Both investigators followed their escort, but Warrick stopped abruptly. "Where does his property end? Do you know, Sheriff?"

Miles searched the trees a bit, and walked past a few of them. He made a dramatic gesture of stomping his feet on the ground. "State land begins right here."

Warrick took a flashlight and shined it around the ground. He spotted something and traced his beam of light to the area the three of them were standing.

Nick bent down with his own light crisscrossing the ground as well. He shuddered a bit. The sun was setting, and it was getting dark. He felt a slight chill go down his back and the cold seeped into the rest of his limbs. Nick made a mental note that if he came back out here to wear some thicker pants and a heavier sweater. They still had a long way back to the car and Nick felt empty handed. He watched Warrick scouring the ground when he heard the sound of a chopper up ahead. Nick hollered over the noise. "I guess I'll go meet the coroner, fill him on a few things why he loads the chopper."

Warrick looked up. "I'm going to make a cast of this boot print. I saw a few of them all over Jenkins' land around his house. Got to be his prints."

Nick nodded. "Yeah, might come in handy later, if we ever find anything to compare it to."

"How does the chopper know where to go, Mr. Stokes?" The Sheriff asked.

"When I was on the phone, I knew it might be a tough area to pinpoint. I had one of my guys trace my call. He entered the coordinates into his computer and used a database to pinpoint the location." Nick smiled when he saw the disbelief on the other man's face.

"Isn't technology something," Miles laughed. "I'd advise that you wait for me and Mr. Brown first. I'm not too sure you can find your way back in the dark without me."

Nick bit his bottom lip, staring at the dark hues of colors that surrounded them from the impending dusk. "Yeah, okay." He didn't feel like getting lost.

"Got it," Warrick called out as he packed up his kit.

"Well, guys let's get going; we still have to process some of our samples back at the lab." Nick just hoped that their autopsy would be more fruitful then their scene collection.

* * *

It had been late when both CSI's had returned to the lab. The autopsy was scheduled for the next day. Nick and Warrick dropped off what little trace evidence they had found for testing. The remaining hours were spent typing up field reports and filing them with their crime scene photos.

The next evening, Warrick entered the morgue and gowned up and slid on a pair of latex gloves. He entered the bay as Doctor Robbins was concluding his notes into his recorder.

The bald man clicked the device off. "You just missed my final examination."

"Sorry, got held up for a while. So, what do we got?"

Dr. Robbins hobbled to the head of the body. "Well, David's time of death noted on the file was correct. The vic died Wednesday afternoon, I'd say between 4 and 7 p.m. Bullet entered right below the heart, tearing one of the main arteries. He bled out, and from I could tell from the severity of the wound, I'd say he died in under a minute. "

Warrick walked over to his colleague and palpated the bullet hole. "That's been buggin' me. At the scene there was blood on his clothes, but not the amount expected from such a wound."

Dr. Robbins glanced at the deceased and back at his coworker. "There were no large pools at the scene?"

"Nope."

"I'd say he lost two liters. Doesn't really add up."

Warrick clenched his jaw as he thought out loud. "What does his levity tell you?"

The coroner smiled. "Yes, another mystery. Your report says he was in a sitting position, leaning on a tree?"

"That's how we found him."

"Well, the discoloration of the skin shows that his blood settled while he was laying face down."

Warrick felt his heart quicken as that all too familiar adrenaline rush swept over him. "The body was moved several hours after he was killed."

"I'd say your case got just a little more interesting," Robbins replied.

* * *

Nick neared the DNA lab and could hear rock music blearing from within. He couldn't make out the words, but he leaned against the far wall as pounding guitar and distorted keyboards assaulted his ears.

"What on earth is this?" Nick finally shouted over the noise as Greg wheeled around in his chair, oblivious to his audience.

The young lab tech looked up to see who had entered, rolled over to his CD player and lowered the volume just as a muffled scream tore through the sonic melee. "I decided to go back a few years and enjoy some angst filled tension," he replied.

"What, like Nirvana, or something?"

Greg frowned. "Your musical history is shameful, Nick." He stalked over to his stack of CDs. "The Downward Spiral, of course."

Seeing no expression of recognition on the other man's face, Greg sighed with annoyance. "Nine Inch Nails, dude. Get with your bands," he lectured.

Nick laughed. "OK, whatever man. I'll stick to some simpler guitar and a vocal I can understand." The CSI wandered over to a stack of paperwork. "You got my results from that fiber I lifted?"

Greg dramatically sifted through his reports and handed it to Nick. "Sorry, just a green polyester, cotton blend. Could belong to any kind of shirt or jacket."

Nick scanned the results. "It was a long shot," he said in disappointment.

Greg stood next to Nick and slapped his hand on the other man's shoulder. "My report doesn't give you much, but I heard your victim was one of those letter-boxers. Interesting people, aren't they?"

Nick stared at his friend, surprised. "You know anything about them?"

Greg walked around his friend as he spoke. "A buddy of mine in college used to go after those things all the time. Bought one of those expensive GPS devices and trounced over back hills, state parks, and all sorts of random areas. Kind of fun now and then."

"Really?" Nick was about to prod the tech into giving him some more insight when Grissom popped his head into the lab.

"Hey, Nick. Warrick's been searching for you. You might want to go find him. He's working on that GPS unit you guys collected at the scene."

Before Nick could ask his supervisor a question, Grissom disappeared. Nick looked at Greg wondering if he knew why their boss had been running around the lab in a haze that evening.

"He's working a murder suicide. Kind of gruesome, been on it for over 24 hours straight," Greg said with a shrug.

Nick emphasized. "Well, got to run, Greggo, I'll catch you later."

Before the lab technician could try to drop any more hints that he could be a little more useful on the case, the other man dashed out of the lab. Greg sat back down in his chair. Undaunted, he went over to his computer and began pulling up research on some of the local GSP treasure hunters in the area.

Nick found Warrick pouring over his computer. They had discussed the probable movement of the body earlier, and each had gone about pursuing other avenues of the case.

"Hey man, any progress from that GPS unit?" Nick watched as his friend stretched his back.

"Nothing. Thing was smashed. I can't get an original set of coordinates." Warrick was clearly miffed at the dead end. "I was even hoping to determine the possible path he might have taken into the woods. "

"If perhaps he might have stumbled onto a certain Ned Jenkins' property?" Nick suggested, knowing both were on the same train of thought.

"Yeah, that was my hope, but it's a no go."

Nick was disappointed that more data wasn't able to be retrieved from the GPS unit, but he held hope they would track down some other relevant information. "Well, I checked out his friend's alibi's. Nicole and Steve had dinner at The Olive on Wednesday, and it would have taken them several hours to get back. With the time of death, they were probably not involved."

Warrick turned the flat screen of his computer over to the other CSI. "This is the background of Ned Jenkins. Served in the Army Rangers from 1975 to 1996 then retired. He was promoted to Captain, served overseas, and had expertise in demolition's and........"

Warrick turned to Nick to give him a pointed look. " Was an expert marksman. Owns several military issued rifles and hand guns."

Nick felt Ned Jenkins certainly had the ability to kill the victim. "We need to go back there and see if we can figure out where the original site of the murder was."

Warrick rubbed his chin for a moment. "I agree, but where do we begin?"

"How about 36 degrees North Longitude by 56 degree west?"

Both CSI's turned around to see Greg standing in the doorway, looking for all the world that he had solved some elusive puzzle. He also had that all knowing smile.

"And what would those coordinates entail?" Nick asked, raising an eyebrow.

Feeling like he held all the cards, Greg sauntered into the room. "Like I said earlier: I knew a buddy in college who went on letter-boxing trips, and I so happen to know the local websites for such treasure hunting."

The lab tech smirked a little, knowing that his fellow coworkers had not explored that avenue as of yet. "So, I took it upon myself to do a little researching and..." Greg slapped down a piece of paper with instructions written out.

"Letter boxing events for Las Vegas on the date for your victim's demise. It happens to be a class A hunt, meaning very challenging. Also so happens to be in the area of the very woods that our... er... I mean 'your' vic was found."

"Looks like we have the location that Robinson was searching for," Warrick said, looking at the paper the tech had handed them.

"Which means a possible spot where he was killed, or possible point of origin, " Nick said excitedly.

Greg simply crossed his arms, satisfied that he had correctly provided a break in the case.

Nick glanced over at the younger man and back at Warrick. The other CSI gave him the go ahead approval in the show of a subtle nod. Nick smiled broadly. "Greg, you ready for a fun trip into the woods?"

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

"A Walk In the Woods" Part 2

By: Kristen

Notes: Sorry it took me longer to update. I'll be adding parts every few days, I promise. For the background I use for this story as well as future pieces, I go by the "Offical CSI Companion". This means that Nick was never a police officer and spent three years at the Dallas crime lab before moving to the Vegas lab. More author's notes at the end of this chapter.

* * *

The trip back to the scene was quiet, despite that fact that chatter bug Greg was now part of the team this time around. The tech had been busy reading through all of Nick's and Warrick's field reports as he tried to catch up on their findings. Nick was deep in thought over the case when Greg broke the silence during the drive. 

"There was nothing else recovered from Robinson's body except his GPS unit, a shovel, and his wallet?" Greg asked from the back seat.

Warrick spun around in the front passenger seat to face the younger man. "Yeah, those were all of his personal effects."

Greg's brow furrowed. "What about his book?"

"What book?" Warrick asked.

"When you go after a hot spot for letter-boxing, you always bring your book to make the rubbing of the seal inside the box. If Chris Robinson was going after a difficult hunt, then where was the book that had his previous rubbings?"

Nick glanced in the rear view mirror. "According to his friends, they had the largest collection of seals in the area."

"It'd be safe to say that he had it with him, then." Warrick reasoned.

Puzzled, Greg looked at both criminalists. "So, that means our killer took the book?"

"We now have something else to search for. Good work, Greggo," Nick smiled from the driver's side.

Soon, Nick pulled the car into the familiar clearing from the day before. He didn't see the Sheriff's car, but he parked, went to the trunk and pulled out his field kit as well a bottle of water. He tossed the other CSIs a couple for thier own packs. He set those items down and put on a pair of warm gloves and his heavier jacket.

Warrick was putting on his coat and observed Greg nervously gather his kit. "You got your field box in a neater order than the last time we worked a case together?"

Greg opened his kit to proudly show all the new and sterile items, neatly organized and placed in the right order. "You only have to tell me once," he said brightly.

"OK. Atleast you're wearing a regular buttoned up shirt." Warrick smiled, thinking the chocolate colored shirt was as normal of a color for the wild kid.

Greg blushed slightly. "Well I have my Radiohead T-shirt underneath. Can't be prim and proper all the time. Still got to keep my rep."

Nick laughed as he wandered over. "What rep? You got a warm coat with you? It's a lot colder than it was when 'Rick and I were up here yesterday."

"Yes, mom and dad. I brought a heavy coat," the tech answered in a mocking voice as he pulled out a gray wool one from the back seat. He also pulled out a tiny bottle of oil and rubbed it in between his hands.

Nick looked at him oddly. "What's that, G?"

Greg placed the bottle in one of his vest pockets. "Its green tree oil. Better for your skin than that sanitizing stuff you use."

Nick snorted, "Yeah, okay man."

The Sheriff's car pulled up during the camaraderie. Miles put on his hat and was wearing a heavy green jacket as he walked over to the trio, his face betraying his unhappiness. "You need to bring another scientist with you fellas? Two not enough?"

Nick introduced Greg to the law officer. Miles merely grunted. Any trace of his previous cooperation was absent from his annoyed posture. "You know, I have over 70 miles of area to cover. I can't keep taking you guys out on field trips through the woods."

"The GPS unit I brought has topographical maps. We should be able to guide ourselves through if need be, " Greg offered.

"I am responsible for you civies out here. That little computer didn't seem to help the victim very much," the Sheriff huffed.

Miles walked passed the trio of investigators and went back into the woods, not giving any type of signal that the others should follow him. Each CSI grabbed their kit and walked in a line behind the Sheriff. All four men were quiet, keeping track of ruts in the ground while avoiding tree limbs that kept threatening to clobber each of them in the face. Over ninety minutes went by as they walked further. The temperature had definitely dipped well down towards freezing, as each man could see their breath in front of them.

"Why is it you guys came back out here? You forget something?" Miles asked, breaking up the silence.

"We were able to determine Robinson's true destination from the Internet. After we go over the original scene, we're going to head over to the coordinates for the box," Nick offered.

"We're also looking for a scrapbook of some kind. Robinson's group searches for hidden caches of boxes in order to make a rubbing inside as a souvenir and a way to prove they'd found the hidden area," Warrick added from behind the Sheriff.

"Scrapbook? Didn't find anything on the body," Miles stated.

Nick walked over to Greg and watched the labtech adjust the setting on the GPS tracker. He turned his head. "It fits in with our theory that Robinson was killed around the location of this hidden box and then moved to another area."

Greg was studying his GPS and wondered outloud, " We still don't have any motive for the moving of the body or why he was killed in the first place."

Nick kept his voice low, not wanting to cause more friction between the CSI's and the Sheriff. "If he happened to be killed on property that would indicate who the killer was, then that's reason enough to move the body to another area to throw off any investigation."

Greg was about to voice another opinion when the Sheriff veered to the West. "Um, the GPS says to keep going north."

"Mr. Stokes said you guys wanted one more look around at the site where the deceased was found, so that's where we're going," the Sheriff replied.

They continued for another ten minutes or so, when Miles stopped by the tree where the DB had been found. "Here's your original site guys. I'd suggest..."

The Sherif looked down at his CB radio went off. He excused himself from the rest of the team to answer it.

Greg looked around. It was nearly impossible for him to discern one tree from another. The woods all seemed to run together this far in. With the leaves changing colors and thier remains litterting the ground, it was a wonder that either of his two fellow CSI's had been been able to get any kind of trace evidence. He did not envy thier task ahead. He walked around where the area had been taped off.

The lab tech watched as Warrick and Nick each took thier time staring at the ground and looking up and over at the surrounding forest. "What are we doing here?"

Nick's voice was quiet, his Texas accent slighty heavier, "Getting perspective."

Sherriff Miles walked back to the area. "Look fellas, hate to break this to you, but I have to go back. Got a distubance with some illegal leaf burning to attend to."

"Its all right Sheriff, we still have to follow the victim's orginal route, " Nick reassureed the older man.

"Well good. You got your little toy. I should only be a couple of hours." The Sherriff began to walk away. "I'll come find you later on."

* * *

Nick and Warrick spent more time canvassing the area before coming up to Greg. 

Nick put his arm around his shoulder. "Greg, ready to lead us to where Mr. Robinson was hunting?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. Now you need to keep a sharp eye out for anything suspcious or any tell tale signs of a disturbance. The victim might not have ever reached his goal. How far away are the coordinates to where we are right now?" Nick questioned.

"Maybe 15 mintues away," Greg hazzarded a guess.

"We'll let's get going," Warrick said, picking up his kit and waiting for the now sometimes lab tech to lead them to their new objective.

Nick and Warrick kept close to the trainee CSI, as it was apparent from the GPS unit they were only feet away from their target. Nick held out his flashlight, watching the beam as it lit up the ground below. His shoes crutched down on dead debris and small twigs. It was getting later and the soil made it nearly impossible to search for blood.

"Here we are," Greg announced, almost afraid he was going to step on something he shouldn't.

Warrick put his kit down and pulled out his alternate light source, scoping for signs of blood. It illuminated the ground, but so far hadn't picked up on anything.

Nick knelt down next to Greg, took a small brush and began sifting around the dirt. Greg tried to help out by holding his flashlight above the CSI. All three of them examined carefully the surrounding area, inch by inch. No rock was left unturned, no pile of earth left untouched.

Greg began scanning the area for anything unusual. He spotted three larger rocks in a pile. He carefully moved a few feet towards them and called out at Nick, "What do you think?"

The Texan looked at him." Think the box might be under there?"

Greg squatted. "Well whoever planted the box needed to leave some sort of symbol to indicate where to dig. It's where I'd look."

Nick went over to the rocks and with his gloved hand picked them up. He noticed the ground was disturbed underneath and observed where a tool mark had disrupted the dirt. He went over to his kit and brought back a very small shovel and began to dig around. Finally Nick felt his spade hit something hard. He took his earlier tool and brushed away the dust and dirt to see a box underneath.

"I think we found our hidden treasure," Nick remarked to the tech. Greg smiled at their discovery.

Nick looked over his shoulder to where Warrick was searching just a few feet away. "We found the box, " he called out.

Warrick was so focused he didn't respond to his friend's words. "Hey man, we found something," Nick raised his voice.

The other CSI stood up and turned to his friend. "I just found a blood trail."

Nick and Greg moved over to the other man. Under the blue ray of light, they saw blood drops. Nick bent down and began brushing away leaves to reveal more signs of blood. Each member of the team carefully followed the trail of blood, creating a path away from the letterbox. As they systematically moved, the blood patterns grew larger, until finally a very large dried pool was discovered by another tree.

"Looks like we might have found the site where our vic was shot," Warrick commented.

There was a layer of dried blood on the ground, leaving a rusted color on some of the surrounding small pebbles and twigs. Nick pulled out a swab and took samples of the blood while Warrick started snapping pictures. Greg went back to the area of the letter box and began taking his own photos.

Knowing that he was still sidelined to just taking pictures, the lab tech walked past where his coworkers were busy gathering samples. Careful not to wander too far, the tech noticed another area of disturbed earth. He took a picture of it and bent down to see that the ground had recently been covered up by what looked like a pretty thick layer of dirt.

"Hey, I think I found something else," he said.

Warrick made his way to Greg's side and studied the area. "Looks like something else is buried here. Take a small spade and carefully dig in this area. Be gentle, and try not to destroy anything with the tool; you just want to remove the soil that's hiding whatever might be underneath."

Warrick carefully avoided any of the yellow tag markers as he made his way back to Nick, who was still trying to clear the area in order to reveal every aspect of the blood trail.

All three CSI's worked in silence, cataloguing their discoveries while trying to create as sterile of an area as possible. Nick continued his work despite the fact that his fingers were beginning to get slightly numb. He had to take off his warm cloves to put on his latex ones. However, it didn't provide him with any warmth. It was a frustrating task and in the meantime, he tried to keep his scene clear as the occasional gust of wind whipped up all sorts of debris on top of the area he was canvassing. He continued to swab and pocket samples when he heard Greg stand up suddenly.

"Guys, I think I just discovered something important."

Nick got up and went over to where Greg was staring at the ground. The other CSI knelt down and flashed his light over a small hole. Nick was caught off guard at the appearance of several fingers from a human skeleton. Nick stood up and turned to get Warrick's attention. Just as he was about to shout at him, he heard a whizzing past his ear and then sound of a gun shot.

Nick threw himself to the ground, when another shot just missed his head, breaking a tree limb in the process.

"Everybody get down!" He yelled as he watched Greg and Warrick fall to their bellies as several more shots were fired in their direction.

TBC

* * *

Authors notes: Yes, there are letter boxers out there. I saw a report on CNN on them and it looks very fun. 

Here is a website: http: want to thank everyone for all thier wonderful comments. I hope you enjoy the ride. I tend to write long opening chapters to set up the story, then my later ones are shorter. For those of you who have read my ER fiction, you know how I write! Again thanks for the feedback, its been a long time since I've written anything. I'm no medical or law expert, but I still want to thank Kris, by beta for all her help.


	3. Chapter 3

Walk In the Woods Part 3

By: Kristen

* * *

Warrick was working a few feet away from Nick on fully uncovering the blood trail. It seemed their second trip into the woods had been more successful. Warrick was so intent on determining how the blood pattern on the ground was produced that he didn't pay much attention when Nick went over to see what Greg had been yelling about.

Chris Robinson was shot past the location of where the letter box was located. Warrick wondered if the victim had even found his elusive treasure or was killed before its discovery. The container was still buried, which meant that either Robinson was shot while still searching for it, or the murderer had reburied the box. Warrick was still debating the relevance of the timeline to the possible discovery of the cache when he heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire.

He jerked his head in time to see a tree limb break above Nick's head. Bullets flew at them a few more times as Warrick dove down and flattened himself to the ground. Within seconds, he pulled out his gun and checked to see if Greg and Nick were all right. Relived to see the other two CSIs' uninjured and taking cover, Warrick quickly scampered on the ground next to a tree so he could face the direction of the person firing at them.

He stayed on the ground, trying from his poor vantage point to locate the shooter. The woods were eerily silent except for each criminalists' harsh breathing. Whomever was shooting at them was either on the move, or was waiting to see what the investigators would do next.

"You guys, all right?" Warrick asked in a harsh whisper.

"Yeah, we're both fine." Nick had his weapon drawn in his right hand, while the rest of his body was perched on his left hand as if he were waiting to sprint. He had pushed an unarmed Greg behind him and now snuck a glance towards Warrick, then back into the canopy of trees.

Warrick estimated it would take him three quick steps to move over to where the others were positioned behind a large tree truck. "I'm coming over there. Cover me!"

Warrick sprinted the short distance as Nick trained his gun into the void of the woods, ready to squeeze the trigger in his friend's defense. Warrick skidded to a crouched halt on Greg's left side. Now both senior CSI's were scanning one side of the forest with the young lab tech tucked relatively safely between them.

"See anything?" Nick whispered, frantically looking at the entire right side of the woods and back in front of him.

"Nothing," Warrick replied, covering the area to his left. "He could be moving behind us, man. We're pinned down with no idea where this guy is."

After hearing Warrick's concern, Greg looked behind the three of them, scared to death they would each catch a bullet in the back of the head. "Guys, we're kind of sitting ducks," he said, not caring that his voice was heavy with fear.

"Yeah, we know man. Give us a second to figure things out," Nick replied in between quick, heavy, breaths.

"Nick, you stay focused on our front. I'm going to turn the opposite direction... make sure no one's coming up behind us." Warrick spun around, now searching the same part of the forest that Greg had been staring at.

After a few more tense moments Warrick spoke up. "We need to move positions; we can't stay in the same spot. I think we should move over a little and I think, Greggo, you need to call for some backup."

"Why me?"

"Because you don't have a gun," Warrick replied.

Nick scanned the area to his right and saw some fallen trees and uprooted trunks. "We should head over to that pile of trees; it'll provide us some cover while we try to figure our way out of here."

Warrick strained to see the location that Nick was referring to. "I think I see where you're pointing. OK, let's all run over there on a count of three."

"We need to stay low," Nick warned.

Warrick gripped his gun, his adrenaline overtaking him, "1... 2... 3!"

Nick dashed towards their location. He felt like one of those video game characters in those first person shooters he played at home The key was to keep moving as stealthily as possible. 'It's a lot easier just playing on the computer,' Nick mused sarcastically.

Greg kept Nick in front of him. It seemed with every passing moment that the woods became more ominous as he struggled to see where he was going. He was so occupied with heading towards their target that he didn't see a very large root snaking out of the ground. Greg tripped over it, the rest of his body loudly crashing down. He panicked as he pushed himself off of the ground, and he felt someone pull him up by his coat collar. Greg was relieved when he saw Warrick and he gave him a quick smile of thanks as both men bounded towards new cover.

Warrick felt a little optimism when all three of them arrived at the fallen tree Nick had scouted out. It was actually several medium sized trees and tree trunks that had fallen, each taking the other one down with it. The three CSI's were able to take shelter by the base of the fallen trunk. With its roots pulled out it almost created a wall around them.

Greg had pulled out his cell phone and began to dial numbers as Nick and Warrick went back to listening and scanning the area. Nick leaned his body against the trunk, his arm stretched out over it as he kept a vigilant watch. He held onto a gun that he used for protection knowing that as a crime scene investigator and a law officer it was one of his tools. He tried to calm his mind, realizing that he might actually have to fire it. He wasn't afraid to use it; in fact, he was very well trained at the target range. Nick had chosen science and chemistry as his weapon against crime, and every time he had to pull his gun it reminded him of the real dangers that had to be faced when tracking down criminals.

Nick stayed focused at his task, but became slightly edgy when he didn't hear Greg talking to anyone on the phone. "Hey man, have you reached anyone?"

Greg looked up at Nick and back at Warrick, who was staring at him with the same nervous intensity as Greg felt. "Ah, I can't seem to get a signal. It keeps saying no service," Greg reported.

Nick rolled his eyes, recalling the difficulty he had trying to reach the coroner out here the other day. He rummaged through his own pockets and tossed his cell to Greg. "Try mine."

Nick kept his attention towards the darkness of the trees in front of him, knowing in his gut that the three of them were in a real world of trouble if they couldn't reach someone for help.

Warrick peered around the fallen tree. The more time that passed without sign of the shooter, the more nervous he became. He vigilantly searched for any movement, but he couldn't help but hear the defeated curses coming from the lab tech. "Nick's cell won't get though either?"

Greg kept punching numbers and buttons, but he was rewarded with another no signal message. "Guys, we all use the same service provider. I'm just not getting through," he replied in frustration.

"Okay, so plan B. We use your GPS to locate our way back to the car and get the hell out of here," Nick stated.

"Shooter might've gotten scared and left," Warrick said a bit hopefully. Then he turned to face Nick. "Or, he's waiting for us to come out more in the open."

"We should try to get back. Maybe if we go slow and careful, we might run into Sheriff Miles. Or he might've heard the shots and is all ready rounding up help," Nick offered.

"Maybe," Warrick answered, trying not to sound too doubtful.

While both CSI's discussed the possibilities of eluding the bad guy, Greg began to frantically pat down his pockets. When he came up empty, the tech groaned. "Um, guys, I think the GPS fell out of my jacket when I tripped." He sounded despondent.

Nick and Warrick stopped discussing their odds to look at him.

"You got to be kidding me." Warrick frowned at their bad luck.

His face betraying the guilt he felt, Greg continued. "It... ah... was in my vest pocket when we were at the last scene."

Realizing the tone he used, Warrick put his hand on Greg's shoulder. "Not your fault, man. We just have to figure out what do to next."

None of them had time to contemplate the next move as what sounded like firecrackers exploded over their heads. All three ducked down again as several bullets ripped through the tree roots not far above them. Within seconds the pattern of the bullets caused all three of them to dive to the ground. The shooter was now in front of them in the distance. The CSI's scrambled to the other side of the tree, hoping that the tangle of roots above them would provide a little reprieve. It seemed to work, as the next round of shots were aimed at where they had previously been hiding.

"You know, if it's Jenkins, we're going to have to make a break for it. Our odds of him missing are getting slimmer," Nick remarked thoughtfully as he gazed above him. "A moving target is harder to hit. If we all run as fast as we can through the woods, he's going to have a harder time getting one of us than if we stand here waiting to get picked off."

"Where are we going to go? We don't know where we are now," Greg added as two more shots were fired... this time to the left of where they had been gathered.

"He can't see us right now," Warrick guessed. "He can stay back where he is and continue to take pot shots at us. If we sneak away and make a run for it, then he's going to have to try to find us. We can use that time to find a way to the car or to Jenkins' house."

"In the meantime, Sheriff Miles is bound to hear all this shooting going on and call in some reinforcements," Nick concluded. He knew the plan was flimsy, but right now they didn't have much of a choice. Nick briefly thought of trying to go around and catch the shooter from behind, but that meant splitting up and making the rest of the team members targets.

"Which direction do we run?" Greg asked.

Nick pointed behind them. "Away from our sniper," he said dryly.

Warrick took a deep breath. "You guys ready? We run as far and as fast as we can. We don't split up. Got it?"

Greg swallowed hard; this was the craziest thing he had ever done. "Ready when you guys are," he said, giving a wan smile.

"Let's do it." Nick lead the way and the other two followed closely. Nick prayed that the fallen trees hid them enough to slip away undetected. Each man stayed low along the ground, trying to duck behind trees and underbrush as they went. The sniper had not taken another shot.

The criminalists had been moving slowly, trying to conceal where they were heading. After what felt like five horrifyingly slow minutes, Nick felt they were far enough away that their pursuer wouldn't see them make a break for it. He held his hand out, signaling for them to stop. He and Warrick locked eyes, their expressions grim and determined, before looking at Greg. Nick held up three fingers. Then he ticked each one off and all three of them made a bee line further into the woods.

The trio ran while trying to keep from sounding like a herd of elephants plowing through the forest. Their feet pounded the ground, snapping twigs. Branches slapped and battered them on their shoulders, arms and backs. Nick even lost his cap at some point. He felt his heart pounding in his chest as if it was ready to explode. He pumped his arms as he ran, trying to put as much space between their attacker and them.

He could hear Warrick and Greg laboring behind him, so he slowed down ever so slightly to let them catch up. They must have been running for almost ten solid minutes, and it was beginning to get more difficult for him to take in enough oxygen. Sweat trickled down his face and he tasted the saltiness in his mouth. Nick heard the other's heavy breathing, and he felt like it was worth the risk to stop for a moment... let each of them collect themselves.

Nick settled into a jog, and finally after rounding another tree, decided to really slow down. He turned to see how close Warrick and Greg were and didn't notice where he was walking. He felt the soft ground sink in a little just before his foot tapped on metal. As his brain registered the strangeness of his boot landing on something so uniform, he heard a mechanical... snap.

Nick felt something stab him in mutiple areas of his left leg. He let out a strangled cry and crumpled to the ground as razor sharp pain ripped through his calf. His vision grayed out as he felt the crack of bones breaking. He lay on the ground gasping for breath, desperately trying to muffle his groans of agony as he barely registered Warrick's panicked words.

"My God, Nick," lingered in the air.

TBC...

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

Walk in the Woods Part 4

By Kristen

* * *

"My God, Nick" lingered in the air.

* * *

Warrick barely had time to comprehend what was transpiring in front of him. He dropped down to his knees and laid a restraining hand on Nick's shoulder. He tried to control the panicking man on the ground who was frantically clawing at the trap, trying to free his injured leg. It was eerily like watching one of those critters on Animal Planet in the same situation. 

Warrick heard a mumbled"Jesus" from Greg behind him, and knew he had to get the young tech focused. "Hold his leg still" he commanded.

Greg was too shocked to argue; he placed his hands on Nick's thigh and hip in a desperate attempt to keep the injured man from hurting himself further.

Warrick couldn't tear his eyes away from the animal trap that had snared his friend. There were two jaws that had clamped down on either side of Nick's lower left leg. Warrick could see that several of the device's "teeth" had deeply embedded themselves, and blood was rapidly seeping through Nick's pants. Warrick tried to examine the mechanism in order to find a way to set Nick free.

"I think you have to push down on that piece sticking out at the end of it in order to release the jaws" Greg suggested, seeming a bit more level headed.

"Please, guys... get this thing... off me" Nick beseeched breathlessly.

Warrick saw one piece of metal that looked like a handle of some sort. Warrick tried to keep the device still, but Nick's struggles was making it a difficult task.

"Nick man, ya got to hold still." Warrick looked over at Greg trying to let the tech know that he had to restrain the injured CSI.

Greg placed more pressure on Nick's leg, holding it inmobile as best he could.

"This looks like a bear trap." Warrick said studying the design of it.

Greg risked looking at it. "Maybe. It's got teeth like a bear trap, but it seems like its a smaller model."

Warrick didn't really care what kind of trap it was at the moment. "The only way to release it, is to step on the end piece." He looked at his friend. "Damn it. Nick you're going to have to stand up. I can't do anything with the trap from this angle." Warrick's tone was laced with anger and regret.

Nick didn't say a word, he was too busy gritting his teeth against his suffering and pain. He did manage a weak nod instead. Greg looked at Warrick anxiously for guidance .

"We'll both help him up." Warrick looked at criminalist. "Nick. Just lean on Greg, while I press on the trap." Warrick waited to see if the hurting CSI heard him.

Nick was beginning to loose control over his pain. It took everything within him from crying out loud. "G-go A-ahead." He groaned.

Warrick and Greg each took a hold of one of Nick's arms and pulled him up. All the color drained from Nick's face. Greghastily put his arm around the CSI's waist, allowing him to lean totally against him. The tech held him still the best he could with all of Nick's weight nearly toppling him off his feet. Warrick let go of Nick's arm and quickly stepped on the release end of the trap.

The metal contraption creaked with the effort, but finally the jaws popped and released Nick's leg from their grip.

Nick let out another strangled groan as he was set free. Greg quickly lowered him to the ground and immediately Nick rolled into a fetal position on his side. Warrick tossed aside the trap in disgust and quickly pulled out a small flashlight from one of his pockets. He shined it down on Nick's injured limb and grimaced at what he saw. His friend's leg was rapidly oozing blood from three wounds. Warrick pulled out a pocket knife and ripped Nick's pants all the way up to his knee to get a better look.

Greg went back to Nick's side. He restrained the injured CSI's upper leg and hip, trying to keep his friend from aggravating his injury. Greg also kept one hand firmly on Nick's chest, keeping him from viewing his leg. He knew that keeping the victim from seeing their injury helped prevent shock.

Nick was panting quietly, his weak struggles and movements slower. Warrick studied the placement of the puncture wounds and sighed heavily, his expression worried. "Jesus. Those look pretty bad."

Greg peered over, his own expression mirroring Warrick's. An idea occurred to him and Greg patted down his vest. He found the tiny bottle of tea oil still secure in one of his pockets. He looked over at Warrick. "I know a little about homeopathic remedies. If I mix my tea oil with water I can make an antiseptic to clean out those wounds."

Warrick stared at him incredulously. "I've still got my bottle of water." He began searching for the bottle that Nick tossed to him earlier that day. Excited that it wasn't left behind, he pulled it out and handed it to the tech.

The bottle was half empty. Greg quickly swirled the two liquids knowing in a general way how much to mix up. Once he was done he nervously glanced at Warrick. He didn't know if he could actually apply the needed antiseptic. "Maybe I should help keep him still."

Warrick took the offered item, knowing that the tech really didn't want to be the one to administer that kind of pain. He understood and didn't say anything. Warrick began to pull off his coat and remove his vest.

Greg just stared at the other man, perplexed. "What are you doing" he asked anxiously.

"Killing two birds with one stone." He slipped off his undershirt and quickly threw his vest and coat back on. He then folded his dress shirt twice and poured the tea oil mixture onto the dressing. Then he wrapped it around the wounds in Nick's leg.

Nick cried out softly, still acutely aware that they were in danger of being discovered and trying to not bring attention to them even though he was almost unconscious with the agony.

Warrick patted down his vest, removing a small roll of tape. He wrapped it around the makeshift bandage on Nick's leg, trying to keep pressure on it. "This is all I can do" he said guiltily. Warrick gently inspected Nick's leg, moving and feeling the injured area, despite the pain it caused his friend with his prodding. "Sorry, man" he apologized softly.

After a few minutes Nick had stopped struggling, his body exhausted. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on anything except the fiery pain radiating down his leg. "How bad is it, 'Rick" he asked, his voice a husky whisper.

Warrick licked his lips. "You broke a bone or two. I just don't know the extent of the breaks." He rubbed his face. " It could be a lot worse."

Nick let out a small laugh. "Yeah? How's that"

Warrick narrowed his eyes. "The trap could have torn an artery and you could have bled out so fast that we wouldn't be having this conversation. You have some deep stab wounds, but I think we can control the bleeding."

"But, I've got a busted leg" Nick summed up, slightly calmer now that no one was touching it.

"Doesn't look like you have any compound fractures" Greg said, trying to offer something positive.

Nick laid his head down on the ground for a moment with his eyes closed tight. He slowly took several deep breaths before pulling himself into a sitting position with great effort. Greg's hand stayed on his shoulder, steadying him.

Nick gingerly flexed his left foot, testing to see if it would still obey his commands. He bit his lip as fresh pain screamed down his leg, a thin sheen of sweat forming on his brow. Through clenched teeth he said"Someone help me up."

Warrick's eyes widened in disbelief. "You trippin? You've got to lay still so we can..."

"Man, I'm not going to let you guys sit around here with me so that we can get shot at some more." Nick stared at Warrick, his face deadly serious.

Greg tried to reason with his friend. "But, Nick, you can't walk like this, I mean..."

Nick's expression, while marred by pain, grew almost angry. "Guys, I played through football with injuries." He held out his hand, fending off the unspoken objections. "I know this is different, but I've got to try. I'm not going to let either of you be placed in more danger because of me."

Warrick looked adamant. "You are not Hercules. You've got a serious crush injury, man. If you go putting weight on it...'if' you can put on weight on it, you're only going to cause yourself more harm. Those bones need to be set in a hospital."

"We're not going to 'get' to a hospital with Jenkins hunting us down. Either help me up, or just leave me here so you guys can make it back to the car."

Warrick shook his head. "No way in Hell we're leaving you."

Nick swallowed, trying to conceal how much pain he was in. He knew that his fellow CSIs would never abandon him, even though it was the best thing to do. All he could do was muster up enough bravado and strength and try to get going with some aid. He saw that his gun was still laying on the ground next to him where he had dropped it. He snagged the weapon and, for now, put it in his holster.

"Let's stop wasting time then." Nick acted as if he was going to stand up... even though deep inside he knew his body wouldn't allow it.

Greg and Warrick both did their best to help. Each man grabbed a hold of Nick's arms as they held him steady. His muscles shook with the strain of standing upright.

Nick's heart pounded fiercely, and his head throbbed with pain. He felt like he was going to pass out, but willed himself to stay on his feet. He wrapped his left arm around Greg's shoulder and leaned heavily on the wiry tech. "I kind of need your help Greggo, so that Warrick can keep his hands free." Nick knew that atleast one of them had to be unrestrained to fire their weapon if need be.

Greg kept his right arm wrapped around Nick's waist and held on to the injured man's left arm that was draped around his neck. "I've got you."

Warrick stood motionless, a thousand feelings gnawing away at his gut. He checked his weapon out of habit and studied his friend. Nick was intent on not being a burden. Warrick ran through all the medical reasons why this was a terrible idea. He didn't know how far all three of them would make it. He worried about shock, blood loss, snipers, and the idea that they were still lost and wandering around aimlessly. It was up to him now to get the three of them out of this mess.

"Let's go. Both of you stay beside me."

Greg moved along Warrick's right side to keep Nick in the middle of both of them. He could hear the deep intake of breath from his friend every time they took a step. The injured CSI hobbled along without a word of complaint. Greg's hand gripped the fabric of Nick's coat fiercely, trying to be as much of an anchor as possible.

* * *

The three of them moved along painstakingly slow. The sun was beginning to go down, and the night was about to get a lot colder. A gambling man would have not have liked the odds stacked against them. Greg wondered idly if Warrick had already set the odds and bets in his head. 

Nick tried putting all his weight on his right foot in an attempt at lessening the pressure on his tormented leg. He knew that trying to walk was insane, but they had to keep moving. He felt light headed and sick to his stomach, but every time he felt the bile rise to his throat he forced it back down. It was easy to hide his dizziness since he leaned on Greg so heavily. This caused the both of them to sway like drunkards trying to maneuver after a heavy drinking binge.

After the initial attempt at walking, Nick had pulled out his gun and held on to it tightly in his right hand. Greg was too inexperienced at handling weapons, and it made him feel better that he was in a minor position to provide backup. He gripped the butt of the gun till his hand turned white. It was also something to focus on besides putting one foot in front of the other. His body shivered despite his coat and warm clothes. The fact that his one pants leg was cut off at the knee wasn't helping, as a small draft kept creeping up from the opening.

Since it was unclear if the shooter was still out there, the three of them had decided to use the setting sun as a guide. The path they chose was heading towards their awaiting Tahoe. They decided to come around in a loop from the east side of the woods to avoid detection. It was a wild guess, but no one spoke about their lingering doubts about the validity of their direction.

Greg adjusted his shoulder slightly to accommodate the additional weight it was hauling. Despite his slight frame, he was as tall as Nick Stokes, and didn't weigh that many pounds lighter than the man. He wasn't as well built as the other CSI, his build being much smaller. Greg often wondered how many times his friend hit the gym to maintain his physique. Warrick kept giving him this thoughtful look, as if amazed that the lab tech was able to endure the extra burden. Greg was glad that he was still able to surprise people.

Greg kept his right arm firmly around Nick's waist. He worried as he felt the CSI's muscles continue to tremble from the terrible strain they were under. Greg kept pulling the other man along, trying very hard to maintain the balance for the both of them. The lab tech hoped they were going the right way. He tried to quiet the voice in his head that kept telling him it was his fault they were lost. If he had just watched where he was going, then he wouldn't have dropped the GPS unit. Nick wouldn't have gotten hurt and they would know where they were heading.

Warrick held their course. He glanced at his watch: it was past seven. They had been plodding along for almost half an hour. He kept his eyes focused for danger, but prayed he would begin to recognize their surroundings. His mind wandered to the case and all its unanswered questions. When he couldn't shake those musings, he kept reflecting back to how they could have been caught off guard so easily. What he really wanted to do was get his hands around the guy who had put them in such a dire situation. Warrick felt his face flush despite the cold, and he glanced over at Greg, the vibrant cartoon character and Nick the clean-cut Texan. His friends didn't deserve this.

Warrick was going to make sure they made it back to the Tahoe. Then with the crisis over, he would return with the rest of the crime lab and they would apprehend a man who murdered some poor kid and got his jollies hunting down criminalists. His fury controlled and focused, he carried on. Warrick thought about taking a break when he heard two gunshots in the distance.

His flinched at first, ready to duck yet again. However his trained ear picked up on the fact that the shots were further away. Someone was firing a gun, but not at them.

"That our bad guy" Greg asked, breathing heavily from practically carrying his heavy burden.

"Sounds like the same rifle from earlier." Warrick listened intently for what was transpiring away from them.

"I guess we really lost the guy" Nick gritted out, his voice painfully hoarse.

The three of them stood, listening in silence. Then another round of shots were fired, but this time it quite clearly came from a different gun.

Warrick seemed confused, and then another volley of shots erupted in the night air. "Seems like there are two people shooting at each other." Warrick gazed off into the darkened woods.

Greg's eyes lit up. "Maybe someone figured out what happened and are apprehending the sniper."

Warrick thought for a moment, obviously not convinced. "No sound of helicopters. No other gunfire except two distinct types of rifles." He shook his head. "Doesn't sound like a rescue team or police backup."

Greg seemed confused. "Maybe the Sheriff found Jenkins."

Warrick pondered what could be going on less than a mile away when he heard the sound of a gun dropping to the ground. His head spun around to see Nick's hand laying limp, and his head lolling to the side. The service weapon had slipped from his fingers. "Nick"

Greg struggled to keep the injured man from falling. Both Warrick and Greg gently lowered Nick down to the ground and leaned him against a tree.

Warrick flashed his light at his friend's face. Nick's eyes were dull and vacantly staring out past them. His face was pale, almost ashen. Warrick placed his hand along Nick's face. It felt cold and clammy. He let his fingers drift down to the man's neck, feeling a weak, rapid pulse. "Damn it" He cursed.

Warrick looked at Greg. "He's in shock. We've got to try to control this."

Nick weakly grabbed his friend's hand, taking a shallow breath. "I'll be okay, man."

Warrick placed both his hands on Nick's shoulders and stared at him. Nick's breathing was ragged. "No. You're going to rest a moment. Now how long you been feeling sick"

Nick drew a shaky breath. "Not too long."

"Yeah, right." Warrick hated feeling not in control. This was such an impossible situation and he was powerless to do anything.

"We've... got to keep moving." Nick argued.

Greg took out his penlight and inspected Warrick's makeshift bandage, noting that it was soaked through and needed to be changed. He repeated what Warrick had done earlier: he took off his vest and coat and removed his dress shirt. Clad in only in his T-shirt he shivered in the cold, but he quickly put his vest and coat back on. He kept the soaked bandage on and re-covered the wound with his shirt, so he wouldn't renew any blood flow. Greg knew allowing Nick to move around was not the smartest of choices, but then again this was not the ideal set of circumstances.

Nick smiled weakly. "I'll get you... a new shirt."

"After you buy 'me' a new one. My threads are a little more expensive than Greg's" Warrick remarked dryly, trying to add some humor for all of their sakes.

After a few moments of silence Greg looked at Warrick. "What do we do now? It's kind of tough to treat shock out in the middle of the woods."

"You should have splinted his leg and kept him still in the first place" came a low, husky voice.

Warrick spun around and trained his gun. He clicked the safety off and aimed at Ned Jenkins, who was standing over the three of them, with his rifle aimed.

TBC...

* * *

I know another cliffhanger. I don't do them on purpose, they are just good points in the story to made a break! I want to thank everyone for all thier comments. I'm very happy that everyone seems to be enjoying this. I almost held off from posting this part for a little longer, but then I'd feel guilty. Of course I feel bad what I've done to the boys, but that is my muse at work. 

I'll work on the descriptions a little better when it comes to what the characters wear.. I'm in the middle of a rough draft of another story, so I'll apply that tip to that one. Its hard to make it smoother, but I'll try!


	5. Chapter 5

Walk In the Woods Part 5

By Kristen

Set Around Season 4

* * *

"Lower your weapon" Warrick demanded as he placed himself in front of Nick and Greg. 

Ned Jenkins didn't move, didn't even seem to blink. He wore a sad smile. "Have you ever shot someone, Mr. Crime Scene Investigator"

Warrick's blood pumped fiercely through his veins, and he tried to even out his breathing. "I said lower your weapon."

Greg felt Nick tense up behind him. His friend eyed his fallen gun on the ground only a few inches from him. The younger man thought about grabbing it, but he didn't want to draw attention. Even if he took it, he didn't know whether he could handle the weapon and doubted even more in Nick's ability to use it.

Ned Jenkins wore camouflage fatigues and black military pants. He had on a heavy army jacket and didn't appear the least bit nervous at the stand off. "Listen, I know what the three of you are thinking, but I'm not the one who killed that hiker. I'm also not the one who has been shooting at you today."

Warrick gritted his teeth, taking a slow breath. "I'm not interested in your stories Mr. Jenkins. I want you to place your rifle on the ground. Then I want you to keep your hands in front of you where I can see them."

Ned stood motionless. "You are not in any position to make commands, Mr. CSI. I'm not going to lower my weapon. My rifle is the one thing that has kept you three safe for the past half hour."

Warrick didn't budge. He didn't have time to analyze this situation. He wanted this man unarmed and he wanted to be on his way out of these damn woods with some proper medical assistance for his injured friend. Greg's and Nick's safety was his number one concern. He kept his gun up, listening to their suspect.

"Yeah, how's that"

Ned spoke very rationally. "If I wanted to kill the three of you, I would have shot each of you in the head from half a mile away with ease. You wouldn't have even known. It's that simple. I wouldn't come and introduce myself. Now, there's a man out there hunting you down and if you want my help, I suggest you lower 'your' gun so we can get to the point."

"You telling me that someone else has been sniping at us" Warrick asked suspiciously.

"Someone else 'has' been taking shots at you. He's not as efficient of a marksman, remains only a few hundred yards away. I've actually distracted your sniper and planted a false trail leading away from here to buy you guys some time."

Warrick had to make a split decision. Something in his gut believed him, even if he was still very distrustful of the man. "All right." Warrick slowly lowered his gun, knowing that Nick's weapon was still on the ground. If something went wrong Greg or his partner would be able to grab it in time.

Jenkins held onto his rifle, but he slowly pointed it towards the ground. His eyes darted around the woods, his posture indicating that he was still on alert for someone else.

Greg felt relief wash over him. He wasn't thrilled at the prospect of a ring side view of a stand off. He and Nick were not in the best positions to defend themselves. The lab tech quietly grabbed Nick's gun and set it next to the CSI's hand. Nick took it, and with a little difficulty, he placed it back in his holster.

"If you're not the one shooting at us, how did you know where we were" Nick asked, his drawl heavy and laced with pain.

Jenkins smiled and slowly pulled out Nick's black hat labeled Forensics. "You guys are easy to track when you leave clues laying on the ground."

He bent down and dropped the cap on Nick's lap. The older man eyed the CSI's leg warily. "You also left a blood trail."

Nick stretched his back against the tree, all the pain and exhaustion evident in the lines etching his face. "Should've noticed that."

Greg looked over at Nick, his concern for his friend palatable. He gazed at Warrick and back at Jenkins. "What do we do now"

Warrick stared at their benefactor. "You know who killed Chris Robinson, don't you"

Jenkins ran a hand through his hair. "I stick to my own business. I haven't down anything wrong" he said simply.

"You withheld information to a criminal investigation. You lied to us earlier" Warrick stated, angry that most of this could have been avoided.

Jenkins eyes narrowed. "Don't you go judging me. I couldn't help you with your case. I wasn't even sure who was involved till you came back here."

Nick opened his eyes, after having rested them for a moment. "Who is involved"

Ned stood up to his full height. When he spoke, his voice was reluctant. "Sheriff Miles."

"You're accusing a cop" Warrick asked incredulously.

"I saw him take several shots at you earlier during the day. I don't have all your elusive answers about what happened to some hiker, but I wasn't about to stand still while he tried to kill three police investigators" Ned Jenkins defended.

Warrick paced for several moments. "Did he kill Robinson"

Ned shook his head. "Kind of pointless to have a discussion about that now." Jenkins gazed at the three CSI's. "I'll tell you one thing. Your buddy here needs to get to a hospital soon and you're going to need my help."

Warrick locked eyes with Jenkins. "What do you suggest"

The ex-militarty man rested his weapon on his shoulder and stared at Nick. "You can't walk the distance and at the speed needed on that leg, son. You're going to have to stay here. I'll guide your friends most of the way back to your car."

"No way am I leaving Nick here" Warrick said, his body rigid and defiant.

Nick wasn't about to be a topic of conversation without adding any input. "He's right, Warrick. I can't go very far and you guys would be faster without me."

"It's not gonna happen, man." Warrick wouldn't accept the notion of leaving his friend out here alone.

"I'll stay with him" Greg offered. Before Warrick could argue some more, the lab tech presented his case. "Look, I'll stay here, watch over him while you two go to the car and radio for some help."

Warrick was shaking his head, but Greg continued. "Jenkins said he threw the Sheriff off track, but if he didn't succeed, then Nick is going to need help eluding him."

"We're not splitting up."

It was Greg's turn to shake his head. "We need to get more police and medical people out here. That means you have to get back to the car."

Warrick didn't like this plan at all. There was nothing good about it. He didn't trust Ned fully and he certainly didn't want to leave Greg and Nick behind to be possibly caught by Sheriff Miles or whoever was hunting them. However, he couldn't think of a better option. There was no way Nick was going to be able to walk back to the car. His friend's condition was not getting any better no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

"Don't I have a say in this" Nick asked, coughing.

All three me turned to him in unison. "No"

"Let's go." Ned lifted his rifle and started walking away from the group. He didn't want to waste any more time pointlessly arguing about the situation.

Warrick motioned Greg over to where he was standing. "Talk to him. Try to keep him calm and awake, Greggo."

The tech nodded, obviously worried. "That's going to be hard, but I'll try."

Warrick started to unbutton his heavy coat and handed it to the tech. "You guys will need this, I'll be on the move. Keep him as warm as possible: the temperature is only going to continue to drop. We'll be back in a couple of hours with help."

Greg didn't take the offered item. "Hell no! I'm not taking you coat, dude."

Warrick grabbed Greg's hand and forced the jacket into it. He glared at him with those dark eyes, daring him to continue the argument. "Use that feistiness and look after him. Don't let him pull that stubborn streak on you."

Greg gulped. He wouldn't let them down. He'd watch over Nick and wait for Warrick to get back. "We'll be right here."

Warrick went over to Nick and squeezed his shoulder. "Be strong partner, I'll be back soon. Keep Greg out of trouble."

Nick still managed a slight grin. "We'll try not to have too much fun."

Warrick rolled his eyes, and then followed Ned Jenkins back into the woods. His anxiety had his stomach twisted into a knot. He prayed that he could trust the military man and get help back as quickly as possible without running into their murderer on the way.

* * *

Greg watched Warrick's retreating form as he sat numbly next to Nick. He was at a loss at what to do. There was no microscope to hunch over, no lab report that needed to be printed. Not a single chemical or substance to analyze. He nervously fiddled with one of the buttons of his coat, for once without words. 

Nick had his eyes closed, but appeared far from relaxed. He held his jaw tight and his hands were balled into fists at his sides. Greg didn't want to imagine what kind of agony he was in.

"So, do you think I might be good in the field" Greg sheepishly smiled at his own question. He wasn't trying to be selfish talking about his possible career advancement. It was just that he needed to keep Nick occupied, and he truthfully wanted to know his friend's thoughts on the matter.

"Yeah, boss, I think you will with time. You're real smart, man. Brilliant in the lab..."

Greg smiled; he knew that he was being paid a true compliment. "Yeah"

Nick forced out a small laugh. "Yeah, man. But you're book smart. You've got to learn more about people."

Greg didn't frown; he just accepted it as good advice. "I need to know about human nature. I know the code for DNA, but not want makes a human tick. At least when it comes to criminals."

Nick looked thoughtful. "It'll come. We all begin somewhere. I started out in pre-law before going into criminal justice."

The criminalist was quiet. At first Greg thought he was going to say something else, or was trying to articulate his thoughts. "Nick" Greg asked in a hush.

Greg gently shook Nick's shoulder. "Nicky"

"Hmmm. W-what"

Greg frowned. "You were talking about going to college."

Nick blinked, seeming confused. "Oh yeah. I went from Rice U to AM. Got a job in the Dallas lab."

Greg's interest was peaked. "How long you work there"

Nick stared blankly at him. He shook his head as if shaking off the cobwebs in his mind. "Um... three years."

"Did you like it"

Nick had that faraway look in his eyes, but recovered after a few moments. "Yeah. Well, sort of. I liked solving puzzles. I took advanced chemistry in school. After a while I specialized in hair and fibers."

"Then you went into the field"

"I was a CSI level 1 for a while. T-Then I applied to the Vegas Lab and interviewed with Gris." Nick flashed one of his charming smiles. "I was green as can be. Don't worry Greggo, you'll do fine in time."

Nick wrapped his arms around himself and tried to supress a shiver. It was getting harder and harder for him to keep warm. He felt frozen down to his core. It was like he wasn't able to maintain his own body heat any more. He finally couldn't keep from lightly shaking, which sent small waves of movement down his leg. Nick tried to ride the waves of pain that enveloped him with each tremor.

Nick closed his eyes as he tried to ignore the agony in his leg. He didn't know what part of the injury was worse, the broken bones or the puncture wounds. He did know one thing, that the rumbling in his stomach was now more than ever threatening to overtake him. He wanted to keep talking with Greg: he knew shifting focus was a good diversion, but he was having a tough time concentrating.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and pried open his eyelids to see the spiky haired tech looking back at him, his face stricken with alarm. The poor kid had enough to worry about and the CSI tried his best to keep up appearances.

"I'm all right."

"You don't look all right. Maybe you should lay down." Greg started nervously shifting around.

"I'm not gonna lay down." Nick was being stubborn.

Greg rolled his eyes. "It'll improve blood circulation" he reasoned.

"Ground's cold."

Greg saw the logic in such a statement. He needed to take a stand, and show some true leadership in this situation. He wasn't the lab tech trying to impress his superior into giving him more responsibilities. No, he had heavy responsibilities right now and it was time to act on them.

He checked on the bandage again and was dismayed that it was soaked with blood. Knowing he didn't have much of a choice, Greg removed his vest and coat again and stripped off his precious Radiohead shirt. He sighed and put his vest and coat back on. He was now without a second layer of clothing, and he felt the goosebumps rise all over his torso.

He wasn't going to win any fashion awards clad only in a vest and wool coat, but Nick needed the shirt more than he needed to keep warm. He took it and wrapped it over the wounds, and taped them into place with the roll that Warrick had left them. Nick cried out softly from the minstrations. Nick was shivering and had been exhibiting signs of confusion. First thing was keeping the other man warm. He needed to do something to conserve heat.

He scooted next to the Texan and leaned next to him.

"W-what are you doin, man" Nick didn't flinch, but wasn't about to embrace the younger man into his personal space.

"We've got to conserve heat" Greg said in a more authoritative tone.

Nick stifled a laugh. "Uh, it's okay. We're fine where we are."

Greg grew serious. "I'm pretty secure in my manhood. I have all I need in the ladies department."

"I'm fine in that area, too, I assure you." Nick subconsciously leaned further from the younger man.

"Well, I don't know about you, but all I'm wearing right now is a vest and coat and I'm pretty damn cold." Greg knew switching to a guilt tactics was low, but he knew his friend would give in.

Nick's eyes grew wide and his voice was softer. "I'm sorry, Greg. I should have t-thought of t-that."

Greg resumed leaning on the other man's shoulder. He stared out into the darkness, wondering how much longer it would be before help arrived. Greg tried not to think about some of the things he kept from both Nick and Warrick. They didn't have anymore supplies to keep Nick's leg from bleeding. The animal trap itself was the cause for Greg's real concern. It was very likely a source for infection. In a worse case scenario, it could have been laced with poison... not uncommon in animal traps.

Greg shuddered. The worst thing about this whole ordeal was that their only hope was their original prime suspect in the murder. Somewhere out there Warrick was trying to get back to the vehicle with Ned Jenkins, a hermit whose own intentions were an absolute unknown. Somewhere in the middle was Sheriff Miles, the cop who they now suspected may have killed two people. Either way, he was tracking some of them down, and Greg prayed he wouldn't find anyone.

TBC...

* * *

Authors notes. Again in my world and according to the CSI Companion Book, Nick never was a patrolman, it just doesn't fit with his character to me. 

To everyone who has given me feedback, a big thank you. I really love writing suspense and I try to develop some decent back story and not just jump into things. I'm sure I lost a few people with the angst, but its what the muse dictates.

A.Remains- I hope you get this before you go on vacation. Thanks for your constant comments.

Sunset- I'm glad the action sequences worked for you, they are a challenge to write. Its a true compliment coming from you.

nicol-leoraine- If you e-mail me, I'll send you chapter 2, if you're still not able to find it.

Parzival - You're comments are so very welcomed. Warrick and Nick I think work so well together, both of them are driven, intelligent men. I wanted Warrick to take charge, its part of his nature and I didn't want Nick to just become this weak character. He'd tough it out in order to help his friends. Greg is fun to write and maybe I'll actually write something soon with him as a CSI, but it won't be for a while. This cliffhanger shouldn't be too bad..I think -)


	6. Chapter 6

Walk in the Woods Part 6

By Kristen

* * *

Warrick let Ned Jenkins lead the way. Still weary, the CSI tried to keep his eyes on every movement the hermit made, while keeping aware of his surroundings. Warrick was glad Ned's pace was swift, as his sense of urgency was on high alert.

Ned signaled for the criminalist to hold up, and both men stay crouched for a moment before the older man glanced back.

"Thought I saw something." Ned seemed to listen to the sounds of the forest. He studied Warrick's face for a moment, who stared back coldly. "You got something on your mind?"

Not one for keeping his thoughts under check he simply frowned. "Was that your animal trap that caught my partner?"

Feeling incensed when there was no answer, the CSI continued "You always feelin' paranoid, Ned? Put traps and snares not only on your property but all around the woods or somethin?'"

"I have the right to protect my land. To keep unwanted people away from me," Jenkins replied angrily.

Warrick got right in the other man's face, his breath hot. "Did you get a good look at what it did? What it could have none to an innocent bystander!"

Ned's steel eyes locked with the CSI. Warrick sensed no remorse- no emotion. "It tore his leg up! Hurt him real bad! He could still..."

Not wanting to finish that sentence Warrick let his anger seethe out in the open, not caring any more if Jenkins was even listening. "See, Nick Stokes is Mr. Dependable. He's not one to let people down, so he's going to keep the pain he's in hidden."

"Longer you keep jawing, longer it's going to take to get the help your friend needs."

Flabbergasted, Warrick's couldn't keep his mouth from hanging open. "Yeah, I can tell the guilt's eating you up inside."

Ned Jerkin's lips twitched, but he said nothing. "Only a little ways more," he finally said gruffly.

The trek continued and the evening wore on. Warrick couldn't see very well in front him, as he was busy keeping Ned's jacket in view. It was cold in the mountains. The chill in the air, made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Warrick continued to have serious concerns about his friends. If it got any damper in the air, then mild hypothermia would be cause for alarm. Greg had his wool coat, which could only provide so much warmth. He left him his jacket, knowing Nick would need the extra layer of protection. When one goes into shock the body essentially shuts down as a protective mechanism.

Irritated by doubt and worry, Warrick quickened his walk. He was fairly comfortable from keeping a brisk pace; kinetic energy, he thought. Greg and Nick were stationary, waiting for him to return. Was Sheriff Miles really out there following them? There was no evidence to point to him... no motive.

"Why do you think the Sheriff tried to kill us" Warrick kept away from the subject of Chris Robinson, keeping to something the ex-military man claimed he observed.

"Panic."

"We found a new crime scene." Warrick thought outloud.

Ned's boots crunching twigs was his reply.

Warrick focused his thoughts, thinking back to elements of the case. "Perhaps Robinson mistook where the letterbox was for whatever reason and stumbled upon a skeleton, instead of his elusive seal."

Warrick ducked a low hanging limb, still vocalizing his working theory. "Sheriff Miles kills Robinson, moves the body. Did he think we would just chalk it up to a hunting accident, an unsolved case with no suspect?'

No, there had to be more. Who was their new DB? Warrick felt his face run hot again... for how many times this night"You know about the original crime, don't you? But what now? What's your motive for helping us?"

Warrick froze,"You leading me into a trap now, Jenkins?"

The older man spun on his heel. "I served my country in the army. You serve others with your duty. Sheriff Miles serves nobody and I'm tired of it."

"That's real sad to hear, Ned."

Both man scoured the darkness for the source of the far away voice.

* * *

Greg was staring at the illumination of Nick's cell phone. He had spent the last few minutes willing the damn thing to work, but all he received was the same no signal message. After studying it a moment, a little curiosity got the best of him and he began snooping at his friend's address book.

He saw listings from most of the people at the lab, some numbers of a few LVPD officers, and the usual family listings.

"Why a-are you going though my phone, Greg?"

Without skipping a beat Greg replied,"Looking to see how many hot chic's digits you got."

Despite how terrible he was feeling, Nick laughed. "Dude, I don't d-date that many people."

"What no ex-Dallas cheerleaders or anything?" Greg still hadn't returned the phone.

"Greg, I played college ball."

Greg pulled his coat tighter around him and buried his hands into his pockets slipping the phone away. "What about any hot gym instructors? I know you have to know a few of them."

Nick smirked. "I k-know one or two." Nick tried to adjust Greg's weight on his shoulder. He was feeling overwhelmingly sick to his stomach and he tried to get more comfortable.

Greg felt his partner squirm but attributed it to the topic of conversation; Nick was a bit over modest sometimes. "Of course I'm sure there are a lot of attractive women who go to the gym all the time."

Nick clutched his stomach. "Not at...the time of day... I go." Nick felt his face flush just a bit, and could tell he couldn't control his rebellious body any more.

Nick rolled to his right side, jarring his injured leg. The fresh pain accompanied him getting sick. He hadn't eaten in many hours, so there wasn't too much left in his stomach for his body to get rid of. He was racked with some painful dry heaving and finally fell onto his back, shaking.

Greg was instantly alert. "If I had known talking about women with you would have this kind of reaction, I'd have tried a different subject." His voice was humorous, but Greg Sanders was getting very scared. Nick was starting to show signs of deep shock and it still seemed like help was too far away.

Nick was trying to control his breathing, but he could only manage shallow breaths. "It could... be... worse."

Greg listened to his partner as he placed his hand to the side of his neck and felt Nick's rapidly beating pulse beneath his fingers. Greg expected this. What he didn't count on was for a man who seemed to be freezing, Nick's face was flushed warm.

Greg began to inspect Nick's coat, seeing if every button was clasped, and drawing the flaps tighter around the shivering man. He draped Warrick's jacket over Nick's form, tucking it underneath the man the best he could. The lab tech was shirtless, but he wasn't that cold. "Yeah, what's worse than talking about girls with the Vegas Crime Lab's own ladies man"

Nick kept his eyes closed, since every time he opened them up the world seemed to be spinning, making his nausea worse. He laughed despite it. "We c-could be ...talking about.. your l-love life."

"I'm deeply offended by that, Nicky."

Greg sat next to Nick, trying to shield him from the wind that whipped up every once in a while. He rested his left hand on Nick's shoulder.

Nick remained quiet, too tired to continue talking with the lab tech. One important thought ran through his head... and he needed to let the young man know one thing.

"Greg."

"Yeah, Nick"

"Only C-Catherine and Grissom can call me Nicky, g-got it man?"

Greg smiled,"Sure thing."

Nick remained where he was, his irregular breathing filling the stillness of the night. Greg removed Nick's gun from its holster and inspected the weapon. He had fired a gun in tests only every once in a while, since it wasn't part of his DNA lab. He released the safety and laid it on his leg. He'd use it tonight if it was needed.

* * *

Warrick and Jenkins canvassed the area, but it seemed like Sheriff Miles was moving around.

"All these years I've kept the authorities at bay", Miles' voice echoed in the wind.

Ned went towards a large tree and leaned against it. His rifle was steady, waiting. Warrick took up an opposite position across from the hermit a few feet away.

"I ignored all your paranoid tendencies, you kept a blind eye to all my business."

Warrick tried to pinpoint where the voice was coming from, with no avail.

"One stupid hiker almost ruined everything. I had things taken care of, yet for once in your life you meddled where you didn't need to be."

Warrick didn't like what he was hearing. These guys went way back... loyalties were being tested. He glanced at Jenkins, who locked eyes with the CSI.

"If you run, you'll get to your truck in minutes. It's past this bend." Ned murmured as he pointed in the direction Warrick needed to go. "I'll keep him busy, you radio for help."

Warrick hesitated. He wondered if he'd catch bullet in the back. Could he trust that this wasn't a setup? He saw Jenkins scowl and then the ex-military man walked away from the tree, going into the open of a small clearing ahead of them.

"You can pick off innocent people and defenseless law officers. How do you think you'll manage a real challenge, Miles?"

Jenkins fired his rifle in the air and took off into the forest. Warrick took his opportunity and ran in the opposite direction towards his awaiting truck. He ran with a fury, his breathing suddenly coming hard and heavy.

His legs burned with the intensity in which he punished them. He could make out the way they had all entered the woods; things looked familiar. He huffed with effort, the veins popping along his forehead from trying to get to the Tahoe. Cell phones be damned, there was a CB radio that they had left behind... for the last time, he thought. If he couldn't get through in this damn area, then he'd drive to the nearest payphone.

Warrick didn't dare stop as he heard multiple gun shots ring out. Bullets must had been flying through the woods; it sounded like a war broke out. Ned Jenkins and the Sheriff were having it out, and it was buying him time. For a brief moment he thought that someone had won the raging battle, when he heard one single shot... then silence. He just plowed on despite the eeriness that had descended upon the wood. His eyes widened in relief at the sight of the Tahoe.

Despite the fact that night had fallen, he recognized that silhouette anywhere. Warrick hustled to the car and fiddled with his keys. His fingers were slightly uncooperative from the cold, but he got them working and slipped the key into the lock. He yanked the door open with more force than necessary and dived in. He frantically searched for the portable CB, and found the elusive device tucked in between the seat and gear shift. He retrieved it and squeezed the button on the side.

"This is Warrick Brown with the LVPD Crime Lab, requesting emergency assistance."

He heard static and tried to suppress the urge to scream into the radio. "This is Warrick Brown with the LVPD Crime Lab, requesting backup and medical assistance, please respond."

While he waited for a voice on the other end, the passenger side window exploded as glass sprayed all over the place. Warrick ducked the flying debris, a few pieces cutting his face, as the front windshield exploded from two more shots.

"I'd back away from that radio, Brown, before I blow your head off!"

The CB radio sparked alive with a response, but Warrick couldn't make out the words.

"I said move away from that radio, Brown"

Warrick slowly turned around in the open door, dropping the radio to the ground. A very agitated Miles stood a few feet away from him, his eyes blazing.

"You just couldn't leave well enough alone. Had to screw things up, didn't you" Sheriff Miles' appearance was disheveled, to put it mildly. His hair was flattened by sweat in a few places, and sticking out haphazardly in others. His shirt was untucked from his pants and he was breathing hard from running.

He leveled his rifle at the CSI, his arms surprisingly steady what with all the adrenaline that had to be coursing though his veins. Warrick wondered how many shots he had left in the barrel, and how much longer he could press his luck.

The criminalist held his hands out calmly, while he worked his jaw from side to side. "We don't have to end it this way."

Miles laughed. "There is no other way for this to end, Mr. Brown."

Warrick tried to stall, but for what he didn't know. There was a voice shouting on the radio, but it was to hear it as the speaker was located on the main unit, still inside the truck. "Why did you kill Chris Robinson?"

Miles took a step to his left, rounding the investigator. "He discovered my partner's body. The kid was going to report it."

Warrick couldn't keep his surprise from his face. "Been doing more than just patrolling the woods"

"Yeah, but you'll never really know. Of course you CSI's ignored the first rule. First person on the scene, first suspect."

Warrick groaned inwardly. "You moved Robinson's body and hoped that we'd be too stupid to notice"

"Thought you would rule it an accident. If not, I was going to move it to a more remote location. Never thought you'd find out where it was to begin with. Figured you'd just stick to the crime scene I made you guys."

Warrick stared at the corrupt lawman. "How does Ned Jenkins fit into all of this?"

Miles smiled. "I've known Ned a long time. I've been helping him with his government woes forever. He owes me." The older man shrugged. "If you guys had continued your case, it would have been easy to implicate him."

Warrick held his gaze steady. "You'd plant evidence, make him a suspect. We're a bit more thorough than you think, Sheriff."

"It wouldn't matter. I would have used him as a scapegoat and killed him. There'd be no mystery."

"You guys must have been real tight," Warrick mumbled sarcastically.

Miles stretched his neck. "Well, looks like I'll just have some more bodies than I planned. Too bad; a bunch of science geeks had to make such a mess. Don't worry though, I'll kill your friends with Ned's gun."

Warrick licked dry lips as Miles aimed his rifle at his head.

"It'll be real quick son. You won't feel a thing." Miles placed pressure on the trigger.

There was a crack of gunfire.

Warrick watched as the lawman lurched to the left with a shocked expression. He stood there motionless for the briefest of seconds before blood trickled slowly from his forehead. Then he toppled to his side. Warrick stared at the body, astounded. He carefully walked over and bent down, noting a pool of blood forming beneath the Sheriff's head.

Warrick carefully turned the body to see a bullet hole in the back of his head. It was dark from the lack of sunlight, but Warrick could tell from the small size of the wound, it had occurred long range. 'Jenkins,' Warrick thought. He dashed towards the CB radio that was still vibrating from where it was dangling.

Warrick grabbed the precious device and relayed his position as well as all the info he could pertaining to the situation. He let the officer on the other end know about the need for search and rescue. He also asked that they notify his supervisors in the LV Crime Lab of the current situation, as he'd missed his contact time hours ago.

With all the commotion on the radio done with, Warrick Brown waited impatiently for help to arrive.

TBC...

* * *

Again thank you for such wonderful comments. I had a grand time writing this, so it makes me so happy to know that everyone else is enjoying reading it. You never know when you're an author, if people will gell with your ideas. I write for myself, since its wonderful hobby, but of course its always nice to hear that other people's thoughts.

C1- Thank you for your comments. I don't think that this was too agnsty compared of some of the dark fics out there. But it did start off and still is grounded in terms of a casefile, and I'm glad i didn't scare too many people away with the action parts

A.Remains- Is this fast enough for you? Truth be told, this story is done. I just post each chapter after I'm down with the edits that are needed for each one. I've had my hand in WIPs and prefer to complete a story before posting. I'm actually 3/4s done with my next fic as we speak -) E-mail me if you want, I might suprise you before your trip. I post in chapters since the CSI section on is so busy, it would never stick around long enough for anyone to catch and read..

LaneIA - Hehe, there are woods and a bear in the previews of the next eppy. I'm glad you think its believable. That means a lot to me.

nicol-leoraine 

Lessons Learned took me months to write and I posted that story on some very active newsgroups back in the day. I never heard of till later, and just posted the whole thing in two days. I actaully get people who complain that its too long!

Amgie- Your english is fine. I'm honored you take the time to read something in another language. Wow, I'm very impressed.


	7. Conclusion

Walk in the Woods Conclusion

By: Kristen

* * *

Deputy Reynolds stared at the body of his superior. He had not pulled out his service weapon, but acted guarded around the CSI. The younger man checked for a pulse, even though there was brain matter spilled onto the ground.

Warrick felt a pang of sadness for the officer, but was just relieved he'd gotten through to the local search and rescue and that they were on their way. He had explained to Reynolds what had happened, but the younger man seemed very uneasy.

"CSI Brown, I'm just not sure about all this. Miles was a guarded person, but what you're telling me is a little hard to swallow." The young deputy swiped away a strand of his blonde hair.

"I understand, officer..." Warrick was going to elaborate when both men heard a rustle coming out of the forest. Both men turned to see Ned Jenkins stumble out of the woods.

Warrick and the Deputy rushed forward as the ex-military man fell to his knees, blood stained the front of his shirt and jacket. He looked up, still clutching his rifle. Warrick bent down next to the wounded man, who was chuckling quietly to himself.

"Ned? What the hell happened, Ned?" Deputy Reynolds asked as he ran his hands over the man searching for the bullet wound.

Warrick finally saw the hole in Jenkins' chest; dark blood dripped over the man's pants.. Reynolds tried to stanch the flow with his fingers, obviously ill prepared to give any amount of first aid. Jenkins weakly pushed helping hands away.

"Did... d-did y-you get help?" he rasped.

"Yes, I did," Warrick replied.

The deputy ran to his car and rushed back with a blanket and first aid kit from his seat. He pulled out big bandage and pressed it down on the wound that was bleeding way too heavily.

Ned Jenkins actually smiled. "Good man. T-told ya...I'd t-take care of things."

"Ned... what's been..."

Jenkins turned to the frantic deputy. "T-there are two CSI's y-you need to help." Jenkins held the younger man's gaze for a moment. "Poor, Reggie... Y-you had n-no clue. M-me and Miles...have h-had...our ...s-secrets."

Warrick sat back at the dying man confessed several sins to the younger officer. All Warrick could do was hold onto the mountain man as his voice faded along with his life. Warrick's face paled as time seemed to drag on. He heard the sound of helicopters ahead. It was too late for Ned Jenkins, but Warrick hoped they were still in time for Nick.

Warrick stared at the heat sensors in the helicopter. He knew there was a team on the ground heading in the direction where Greg and Nick waited for them, however, the CSI knew it would take them a while to find his friends. Warrick had insisted that he ride with the medic's, since he convinced them he could point out where the other CSI's were from the ground.

* * *

The criminalist perched very close to the edge of the chopper, knowing they were minutes away from their destination. Deputy Reynolds had been silent on the ride, but he remained acutely aware of their surroundings, giving directions to the flight crew. After talking with Ned Jenkins for the briefest of moments, the younger officer knew about where they were headed.

Warrick gripped the sensor when it showed two heat sources.

"I see them!" he yelled.

The pilot acknowledged him, checking his instruments as he guided them down. Warrick had participated with Search and Rescue operations before and he got ready. The helio got closer to the tree tops. A medic whose name badge read Steve readied himself. The CSI would have to wait for the Search and Rescue medic to descend first, then he could follow. After getting the all clear, Warrick went down the rope carefully. Despite his desire to repel down quickly, he knew that getting caught up in tree branches were not going to help the situation.

Keeping calm, he descended to the ground. Warrick landed and quickly undid his clasps and safety straps. He scanned the area, where he finally spotted Greg waving him and the medic over. Warrick closed the distance between them in several quick steps.

The CSI grabbed Greg by the shoulder. "How's Nick?"

The lab tech's expression was hard to gauge. "Let's just get him out of here."

The medic followed the pair of CSI's as they bent down next to Nick. Warrick gave his friend a warm smile. "Still laying around I see." Warrick hid his frown. Nick struggled to sit up, but it was apparent he was too weak to do so.

"T-took you long enough." Nick simply replied.

The medic crouched down and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around one of Nick's arms. He inflated the cuff as counted the CSI's pulse with his finger. He spoke into the portable radio attached to his shoulder. "Pulse 60, BP 120 over 55."

Quickly the paramedic inspected Nick's leg, pulled out a heavy bandage and applied pressure to the wounds. His patient hissed in pain, and the medical worker wrapped adhesive tape, securing the dressing in place. Steve undid the buttons of Nick's coat and ran his hands over the man's ribs and up to his collarbone.

"Any other injuries, or pain anywhere, Mr. Stokes?"

"N-no, just, m-my leg." Nick tried not to flinch as the medic examined him.

The medic quickly refastened the buttons, wrapping the coat securely. "Been having a hard time keeping warm?"

Nick didn't respond at first, trying to gather his wooly thoughts. His head felt like someone was squeezing it with a vise. "Yeah, it's so damn cold out here."

Warrick stayed on his haunches close enough to observe, but allowing room for the medic to work on his partner. "Anything I can do to help?"

The medic shook his head"Sorry, Mr. Brown. I'm working fast to prep for the ride."

Warrick grit his teeth, but nodded. He looked over at Greg, who was staring at the unfolding drama; he was shivering slightly in the cold. Warrick noticed the absence of younger man's shirt for the first time. He squeezed the young tech's shoulder. Greg gave him a small smile. Both men watched silently as the medic continued to work.

Steve pulled out a penlight and shined it in each of Nick's pupils. "How else are you feeling, Mr. Stokes?"

Nick coughed slightly. "B-been better."

Steve chuckled. "I bet." The medical worker uncoiled a roll of IV tubing. "Do you have a headache? Any dizziness?"

"Yeah." Nick felt drained and so very tired. He just wanted to close his eyes and fall asleep. He was aware of the medic working on him, felt the fiery pain of his leg as it was jostled. Nick tried to answer the medic's questions, but it was just difficult paying attention to the man's words.

Greg took a step closer. "He's been showing signs of confusion, and he got sick to his stomach."

Steve nodded his understanding. The medic set up a pole and a bag of fluid, still speaking to Nick in a calm tone.

"I'm inserting an IV to give you fluids." Steve then pulled a tank and an oxygen mask from his bag. "I'm placing this over your nose and mouth to help with your breathing."

Steve dug through his pack and pulled out an odd looking device. Nick gave him a strange look.

The medic smiled,"I was informed ahead of time about the nature of your injury. This is an air cast, with a built in pump. I'm going to wrap it around you leg, and then inflate it."

Steve wrapped the plastic around his patient's leg and strapped it securely. "This might hurt, but I need to stabilize the bones before we go up."

Nick mutely nodded. He balled up his fist and banged it on the ground in pain, as the pressure was increased around his injured limb. The air pump hummed as it finished enclosing his leg.

"In a minute or two we're going to place you in a stretcher and haul you up." The medic started an IV and communicated into his radio.

The group on the ground had to wait for the stretcher to be lowered. Warrick and Greg anxiously walked over to Steve, who was monitoring the progress of this part of the rescue effort.

Both CSI's nervously stood next to the medical worker. Warrick folded his arms over his chest. "How's he doing?"

The medic faced them for a moment. "Its hard to tell, sir. He's got a weak, rapid pulse. Blood pressure's high from trying to increase the blood flow in order to make up volume loss from the injuries. Despite the fact that he feels like he's freezing. Mr. Stokes feels very warm to the touch, from an infection I'm afraid. "

The stretcher was almost down and Steve looked at it. "I've got to get him loaded in; you can help me with that guys. He's conscious, which is good. We'll have to let the ER docs take care of him."

Warrick's jaw tightened. He closed his eyes as a thousand thoughts ran through his brain. He quickly opened them and began to help the medic get Nick onto the stretcher.

"Am I going to go up there with you guys" Greg asked. He'd been with Nick for the past couple of hours, and now it seemed he was going to be left behind. Was he just supposed to walk back out of here?

Warrick almost dismissed the idea of the tech going with them. They didn't have the time, nor the room. However he looked at the man's expression. The over confident, boisterous kid was gone, and a very concerned young man who had spend the last few hours looking after a friend stared back. Warrick would get Greg on that chopper.

* * *

Search and Rescue was met by an awaiting team of emergency personnel. Warrick and Greg had to hustle to keep up with the doctors as Nick was rolled into a trauma room. People swarmed the CSI, the medic shouting the needed information and the nurses and personnel responding.

"Got a male Caucasian, early thirties with a crush injury to the lower left leg caused by some sort of animal trap. Probable broken tibia."

A nurse was using a pair of scissors to cut away Nick's chinos as another care worker was stripping his shirt and placing EKG leads to his chest.

Steve continued to rattle off vitals. "Pulse is thready at 130. BP's 110 over 50 started one IV on site, an additional large bore IV en route. Patient had basic care given and emergency assistance was not started for at least three hours after onset of trauma."

"I need a crit, people," A doctor yelled.

Warrick and Greg watched from the doorway as doctors barked orders for blood, x-rays, and a slew of other tests. As Warrick tried to get closer, the two CSI's were ushered out of the ER room into the hallway.

"Hey! We just wanna be..."

A nurse cut off the bullheaded CSI. "Look you can wait here in chairs. You're only going to be in the way."

Greg gripped Warrick's shoulder and steered him towards a group of vending machines. "Look, we can't do anything right now. He's going to be fine," the tech tried to reassure the worried CSI.

Warrick took a deep breath, his eyes bored through the closed doors to the ER room. Suddenly his fist lashed out and punched the coke machine. "This whole damn thing could have been prevented. Damn it, Greggo, how did it get so out of hand?"

"That's what I'd like to know."

Warrick spun and saw Gil Grissom standing behind him.

"Gris? How did you get here so fast," Warrick asked, puzzled.

Gil Grissom gave him one of those expressions that indicated the answer was plainly obvious. "You called me over an hour ago. I checked which hospital search and rescue was bringing Nick to." Grissom pointed his finger to the floor. "This one. I got here just a few minutes ago. We may be over an hour away from your crime scene, but when you go by air it's a lot less."

Warrick scowled, the stress and emotional turmoil were obviously taking its toil on him. "You got our people heading back over there?" His mind still on the case, Warrick didn't want anything else to get screwed up.

Grissom crossed his arms. "I sent Catherine and Sara over there. I'd imagine they'd arrive in over an hour. From what I understand, we have two crime scenes to investigate?"

Warrick bit his lip. "Try three vics to process. We have the original site of Chris Robinson's' murder; which by the way is the same site as Sheriff Miles' deceased business partner."

Greg's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hadn't heard this tidbit, but knew better than to interrupt a report being presented to Grissom.

The CSI continued his summary of events. "We have Sheriff Miles' body right in front of the Tahoe, and Ned Jenkins who died right in front of the main clearing." Warrick shook his head in disgust. So many lives lost.

Grissom stood there silently, processing all the information. He fiddled with his glasses. "Seems your walk in the woods wasn't so simple."

"It certainly wasn't a visit to grandma's house," Greg added dryly.

His quirky sense of humor was lost on the others. Grissom and Warrick gave the tech a stern look and Greg shrugged.

Their supervisor glanced back towards the trauma area. "How's Nick?"

Warrick's grim expression returned. "They're working on him now. It's a nasty injury."

Grissom appeared thoughtful; his voice was quieter, more reserved. "We'll make sure that CB radios are kept on us at all times from now on."

There was no accusation in his tone, even though Warrick still blamed himself for not thinking about that earlier. Warrick tried to push those darker thoughts away for another time, and turned to look at Greg.

"You did a good job looking after Nick, man. You can definitely handle tough situations."

Greg allowed himself a sad smile, but he still felt totally inadequate. He knew that he needed a lot more time in the field and had things to learn. He was glad to have helped in some small measure on this case.

Grissom turned to the wild man of the DNA lab. "Heard you provided some key leads. Interesting." The older man looked at both his CSI's. "Now the two of you should change into some fresh clothes, get something to eat."

Expecting the protests"You don't have a say in this. We can't do anything for Nicky right now, so let's just get you two cleaned up. You look like hell, you know."

* * *

Nick Stokes' entire body felt like lead. No, that wasn't exactly the right description, but it was the only one that came to mind. He felt wiped out, like he had run a marathon and simply collapsed from the exhaustion. The last thing he recalled was some crazed trip into a helicopter and being rushed into an ER room. Doctors were swarming like bees, inserting needles and tubes into every part of him. He'd simply succumbed to darkness, the pain, shock and exhaustion finally consuming him.

He wasn't in the middle of the woods anymore, but in all the melee, he didn't know where Warrick and Greg had disappeared to. For a moment he thought he might be alone, but the constant beeping of a heart monitor and whispered voices around him seemed to contradict that thought.

His leg wasn't a mass of pain and agony any more; no it was more of a numbed tingle. His eyes felt like dead weights, but he finally managed to open them. The room he was in swam into view, a dim light coming in from somewhere. He blinked several times and heard the scuffle of feet and a creaking sound from a chair being pushed aside.

"I'll go get the doctor."

That was Grissom's voice, but all Nick could see was the two concerned faces of his two friends peering down on him. He sort felt uncomfortable being the object of attention.

He cleared his throat. It felt terribly raw and sore. "Hey, guys." His voice was very faint to his own ears.

Warrick felt relief at the sound of that Texas drawl. He gave a forced smile. "Hey man, good to see you awake."

Greg hovered at the other side of the hospital bed, his eagerness obvious at the huge smile on his face. "Nick, dude. You finally decided to grace us with your presence."

Nick chuckled. "Jeesh, can't a guy get a little sleep?" He wanted to sit up, but didn't have the strength to do so. He took stock of his situation, noting an IV in his arm that went up towards two different bags of fluid. There were tubes in his nose providing him with oxygen. A blood pressure cuff was wrapped around his right arm. It automaticly squeezed his arm every few minutes. Sighing, he looked at his friends, "How long do I have to be here?"

As if on cue, the hospital room door opened, revealing Grissom and an oriental man in his late forties. The man smiled at Nick and flipped through a chart in his hands as he approached the bed.

"Mr. Stokes, good to see you awake. I'm Doctor, Chin. I am the resident in charge of your care."

The doctor scribbled some notes into his chart from some of the various machines, noted the BP inflate, and started to take a reading from it. After he was done with that, he carefully lifted the blanket covering his patient. Nick's had a halo cast, with metal circles around the leg, and little rods going in to stabilize the bones.

Warrick and Greg stood next to Grissom as the physician made his inspection.

"How is he doing?" Grissom asked as the doctor placed the sheets and blanket back into their original place. Nick looked at the doctor expectantly as well, taken aback at the condition of his leg.

"You broke your fibula bone in two places and cracked your tibia. Surgery was performed to set the bones and sew up the three wounds in your leg. You lost a significant amount of blood. We gave you several transfusions as well a hefty dose of antibiotics. The metal halo cast will keep your leg immobile and leave room for the bandages on the puncture wounds."

Nick swallowed. "It didn't seem too bad out in those woods."

"On the contrary, you were in pretty bad shape when you brought in. You were in deep shock and losing blood fairly steadily. If you had been out there for much longer, your situation would have been quite critical."

"What about infection?" Grissom asked, ever the scientist checking for variables.

Dr. Chin glanced over at Grissom. "An infection was already setting in, but it hadn't really developed. It's still a very real worry, so we have Mr. Stokes on some heavy antibiotics. The trap had not been laced with poison, which was a concern at first."

Warrick was clenching his fists and Greg seemed like he was staring at some spot in the wall next to the physician.

Nick shifted slightly in bed, feeling the numbness of his leg give way to that familiar sharp stabbing sensation. He grunted."So, I get to leave when?"

Dr. Chin crossed his arms and seemed to study his patient. "You'll remain here for at least three or four days. With the rods in your leg, you will be out of action for some time. The puncture wounds can still expose your leg to infection, which could spread to the bones themselves. Once the wounds in your leg heal a bit more, you'll be released to your regular doctor.

Nick shook his head. "How long will I be kept out of the field?"

Dr. Chin crossed his arms. "Atleast twelve weeks depending on how you respond to physical therapy. You'll be on crouches for some time, and have a slight limp for a while."

Warrick patted his friend's arm. "Could have been a lost worse, man. You'll be back to normal sooner than you think."

"You'll have to pass a medical test to regain field status." Grissom didn't catch the angry look that Warrick shot his boss.

"Great," Nick mumbled. After a moment of awkward silence, he looked at Warrick. "What the hell happened out there?"

Dr. Chin excused himself as the four men launched into forensic jabber.

Greg, Grissom, and Nick were a captive audience to Warrick's tale. The CSI talked in a clinical and mostly unemotional manner, except at the mention of Jerkin's death.

"Miles really thought we'd bungle the investigation or something," Nick was still confused over the idea that the lawman felt they would be so careless as to not investigate the death any further.

Warrick shrugged. "The Sheriff didn't count on Greggo on finding the original set of coordinates. He thought he had time to move the body and we'd be left with a cold crime scene."

"His backup plan was to kill several crime scene investigators?" Greg asked astonished.

Warrick scrunched up his face. "Nah. I think his plan was to incriminate Ned Jenkins if we found the original site. I think he was going to set up him up by planting that scrapbook and kill him. Make it seem like he caught the bad guy."

Grissom stood motionless. "But he didn't have time to do anything. He had his regular duties and you guys showed up much earlier than anticipated."

Nick played with his IV site and stopped. "Who's the DB then?"

"We'll know more when Sara and Catherine ID the body" Grissom added. "They'll be by to visit they said, when they are done at the lab They were here earlier, but you were in surgery."

Greg shook his head. "All this and we still don't know who the original victim was."

"But we will," Warrick said.

"We'll also know what kind of illegal business Miles was into." Grissom thought out loud.

"Probably something with his partner went bad" Greg speculated.

"I think Ned Jenkins knew that Miles had killed someone, maybe even helped cover it up. I got the impression that the guilt of hiding that information for whatever reason: loyalty, or fear over the government and his land had finally taken its toll on the guy," Warrick reasoned. He never liked the hermit, but in the end, the guy didn't deserve to die like he did.

The three CSI's noticed that Nick's eyes had drifted shut. Grissom motioned towards the door and left the room. Warrick and Greg remained behind for a moment.

The older CSI looked over at Greg. "You still want to go into the field after this?"

Greg let a smile spread over his face, lighting it up. "Of course I do."

"It can also be dangerous," Warrick said, his voice low.

"I want to get the bad guys out there," Greg said seriously.

"Your role in the lab is as important as what we do" Nick said with his eyes still closed.

"Aren't you supposed to be sleeping" Greg asked jokingly.

"Kind of hard to do with people in my room," Nick replied in a tired voice, but still with a hint of humor.

"We each play our part, Greg." Warrick looked at the younger man. "But if you want to know the truth, we can use your skills out there."

Greg beamed proudly. "Of course you do. Who else is going to keep you two out of trouble? Maybe even next time, I'll bring bread crumbs along for us to follow back."

"You better be glad I'm stuck in this bed, Greggo," Nick threatened lightly.

Warrick looked at his partner. "I'll take care of him, don't worry."

Warrick headed towards the door, signaling the tech to follow suit. "Get some rest, Nick. We'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh, Greg."

The tech turned around inside the doorframe. "Yeah?"

"I want my phone back, when I get out of here."

"Sure thing, man." Greg turned towards Warrick who had one eyebrow arched. "As soon as I'm done cloning all his fine lady friends' digits." Greg winked at his partner.

The two CSI's left the hospital, heading towards those cursed woods instead of going home.

"You think we should be going over there?" Greg asked.

"I'll guarantee you, that's where Gris, went."

Greg thought for a moment. "Am I still stuck taking photos?"

Warrick sent him a glare. "Don't push your luck man."

"I've think we've done enough of that for one day" Greg mumbled and readied himself for one more jaunt into the forest.

Fini

* * *

Authors notes: I want to thank everyone who has sent me comments as well as encouraged me "strongly" to hurry. I tried posting quickly while allowing enough time for people to read and catch up. What makes me the happiest was knowing that many of you felt that I kept in canon with the characters: that their actions, reactions, dialogue was respectful and in tune with the show. That beyond anything makes me smile after spending time on this. Of course its cool to know that the action and suspense quickened the pules a little too -) Walk in the Woods was my return to fanfiction after several years, and it got my muse into overdrive!

Many thanks go out to my beta Kristen! Just like films, books, and even fanfiction its so important to have a wonderful editor and friend to bounce off ideas and whose not afraid to offer feedback.

I hope to return in a few weeks with another story. I'm almost done with it and then after edits, I'll start posting so keep a look out!

Until then!

michon , Lady-Of-The-Rings

Thanks for your kind words, I hope this last chapter answered all of your questions -)

nicol-leoraine

Glad you enjoyed everything. My next fanfic, is another CSI story. I have not written ER for many years, since they most of the main cast left. Its not the same without Benton or Mark.

P.L. Wynter

Wow! Thanks for your wonderful response. As I said before, I'm glad the characterizations seem real. As for my favorite eppy? I can't just say one.

Season 1"Who are You""Boom"

Season 2"Stalker""Primum Non Nocere"

Season 3"Let The Seller Beware" "Inside The Box"

Season 4"Turn of the Screws" "Eleven Angry Jurors"

Peacful River

I'd never kill Nick! I like to add comical things inbetween the angst gives the reader a break, plus I could imagine Greg snooping in Nick's cell phone.

c1

Wouldn't want your neighbors to get too mad at you -) Glad I had the tension in there.

CSI Sam

Well this is the end. Like I said next story should be a few weeks away. Glad things flowed so well for you. Comments like that fuel my spirit to try harder on future things and improve my writing so you can enjoy even more the next time.


End file.
